


Steve's Terrible Gauntlet

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Series: A Thousand and One Manhattan Lifetimes [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canonical Character Death, Dubious Consent, Fix-It of Sorts, Immortal Steve Rogers, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, look there's just a lot of death in this okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 89,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: "What if I tell you a story about someone else I worked with? Someone on another team of mine.""Tell me about them.""His call sign was Iron Man. And he was the bravest man I've ever met."Steve has never been one to accept what the world has given him. When returning the Stones presents an opportunity to undo the worst loss of the final battle, Steve reaches out and holds on with both hands. Even if it means needing to save Tony over and over and over again. Steve isn't going to let him go. Never again.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: A Thousand and One Manhattan Lifetimes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698925
Comments: 160
Kudos: 220





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is the first of at least four fics (probably five) in a very, very, _very_ long epic. Like, it's already over 200k in my many Google Drive files and the end is only vaguely in sight. Just warning you all. While the end of the epic series is intended to be hopeful, the end of this particular fic installment is pretty dark. I've listed the premise and some spoilers _INCLUDING POTENTIAL TRIGGERS_ for the series in the end notes of this chapter as there are some things that don't show up here that will show up in later installments. Please take the time to check those over if you are concerned, because despite the hopeful ending (which may even be happy at the end of the day? Who knows, my Steve is a fickle bastard) there are plenty of dark twists and turns along the way.
> 
> As a result, if you want to wait to read until the whole piece is done, I absolutely understand. If you're willing to be brave with me and come along for the ride, though, I would be so, so grateful. I need all the encouragement and support I can get (as my lovely cheer readers will attest) and I am thankful for whatever you are willing to provide.
> 
> This piece would not exist without the help of several people. First, my IRL friends A and J who indulged me by reading through some of the piece in its early stages and encouraged me to continue. My fandom friends Sly, Ali, and V.Mures, all of whom have encouraged me through Discord, with Sly even going so far as to set up a DM where I can just show up and cry about it. My IRL writing friend B who unintentionally belittles fandom writing and unknowingly motivates me through spite while also encouraging me to improve my craft. Thank you to ishipallthings for the beta with MTH and for being a brainstorming buddy through this process.
> 
> Above all, though, thank you to Talisav and Spacerocky, both of whom have helped me take the surge of motivation the pandemic and corresponding isolation have brought me and channel it into finishing a draft of the first three arcs of this piece. I would not have been strong enough to wait until more was done before posting or brave enough to post at all without them. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> The series title is a play on _A Thousand and One Arabian Nights_ and the story title is a play on the story from _Arabian Nights_ entitled _Aladdin's Wonderful Lamp_.

Steve misses it when Tony goes down. There's a whole world just returned to him, companions at his side, and everything's right in his life for the first time in five years. For a brief moment, everything is right, everything is perfect, and they've made it through unscathed. The world is his oyster again and even though his arm is still bleeding sluggishly, he won't have to wait long before even that isn't a problem anymore. The relief is heady, not quite sending him to his knees, but it's a near thing. He closes his eyes and breathes. Everything is right.

Until it isn't.

Everything comes to a grinding halt the second he realizes one of his worst nightmares has come to pass.

Tony. Dead.

He rushes over towards Tony, heart beating a tattoo in his throat. He makes it close enough to hear the feeble beating of Tony's heart against his chest, to hear the stutter in the nanite chamber where the arc reactor once rested. Peter's voice is feeble, desperate, his sobs pulling at Steve's chest. But Pepper. Blessed Pepper. The woman that stood at Tony's side when Steve was too weak to do so, who walked beside him as an equal all these years while Steve marinated in his guilt and self-loathing; his loss and impertinence and incompetence. Pepper, who was so much more than Steve could ever be to Tony is somehow stronger than Steve ever could have been.

"You can rest now."

The words cut a ravine through Steve's chest, an admission of the reality his senses are feeding him that he refuses to accept. There's no way this is what he was meant to see, what he was meant to accept, and there's no way he can take this on alone.

But he isn't alone anymore, is he? He has everyone back, everyone that he'd asked for, everyone he'd spent the last five years missing. Bucky and Sam and T'Challa and Shuri and Bucky, god _Bucky_. He should be content. He should know that the world has granted his wish, be grateful beyond measure. Instead all he can do is wish the cost hadn't been so high.

He can barely feel the tears on his cheeks as he stares at Tony's form, bent and broken, beaten in a way that Steve has never seen him, not even in Siberia. Or maybe— Maybe this is Tony content. Maybe this is a Tony that has found his peace. A Tony not in motion is a Tony he's never seen. There's no way this could be anything but what Tony wanted, could it?

No.

Tony doesn't quit. He never lets up. Relentless in everything he is and does. There's so much more here than Steve can parse, the certainty that Tony deserves so much more, so much better than he has right now. There's nothing to be done but to welcome this new reality.

He's never sure who knelt first. They tell him later it was Clint, but something in him doesn't quite believe it. There's too much pain in Clint's past, too much raw rage and anger and frustration in his soul, and even the knowledge that his family is back, whole and hearty, can't hardly be enough to undo the last five years of pain. It can't. It _can't_. They tell him it was Clint, but Steve only sees it when Sam kneels, out of the corner of his eye. The motion catches him by surprise and knocks him out of the ache and pain that fills him, body and soul.

Steve doesn't mean to do it. He doesn't think of it until he sees Sam on his knees. He didn't intend to do this, didn't intend to let Tony back into his soul like this. But somehow he's made Steve's heart his home again in a way that Steve never would have expected. The knowledge that everyone else has accepted this, that everyone else has fallen to their knees to honor Tony's sacrifice breaks him in two. His strength fails him and he drops to one knee, his body wracked with grief.

He kneels there, close enough to smell the blood that must be Tony's, to feel the way the world is darker for his loss. It aches, and there's nothing for it but to sink into the ache and let it be his new reality.

But then, when has Steve Rogers ever accepted reality?

* * *

The funeral is a solemn affair. Steve doesn't completely understand how he garnered enough of Pepper's good graces to be allowed to hear Tony's final message, but he did and he does and that's more than he ever thought he'd have. 

"Part of the journey is the end," and Steve feels the lie in those words down to his marrow. There's nothing to accept here, nothing to do but allow Tony to speak his piece, to be what he's always been — Steve's North Star. Bucky, he was Steve's anchor, his port in the storm, kept Steve grounded in ways he might never have been otherwise. But Tony always made Steve better. Made him want to be everything Tony never thought he could be. Everything Tony knew he could be. Tony was his guidance, his direction, the source of his faith and strength. This is who he is, who he's always meant to be, and Tony brought him there with all the faith and strength and hope that he could muster. Tony saw people as they could be, as their best form, and while Tony still lived, there was nothing to be done but follow through. Now, with Tony dead and gone, there's something to be said for letting himself fall to his worst tendencies. His desperation and his blind dependence on the past. There was so much more in the world that could have been truth and light and hope, but with Tony gone there seems to be no reason to fight for that path.

All Steve wants to do is fall.

Pepper puts Tony's arc reactor to rest, a reminder of a Tony Steve never knew. A man that claimed to have no heart, that pretended to be nothing but the pain and anger and rejection the world had so callously served him. He'd put up a good front, and people may have believed it then, but Steve likes to think he never would have fallen for it. There's a chance he'd have accepted that part of Tony that he played up for the press and the board and the shareholders, but for Steve Tony had never been all that. He'd been something much closer, much more precious, and there was nothing about Tony that would ever have let him think he was otherwise.

Steve waits until everything is in order, until Tony has been put to rest before he steps onto the time travel pad. Steve wants to lean into the joy of their victory, into the relief that everyone else feels. He's still too hollowed out to do even that. So he lets Bucky tease him, lets Sam reassure himself that everything is going to be alright, and leans into the reality that the world could be. He takes the Stones in his hand, lifts Mjolnir. He settles into his spine, into the world that is his, the world that could be so much more than he ever would have let himself believe, and there's nothing for it but to let the suit slip into place over him and settle against his clothes, against his skin and bones. And so, he sticks to the plan.

At first.

* * *

The Power Stone first. That was always the plan. Thanos' first weapon against Tony is the first that Steve lays to rest. The planet is huge and terrifying, distant and perfect, and there's nothing to do but start there. So it's the Power Stone in the case that Steve reaches for first. He waits, the Stone suspended in the pocket of reality that Strange had created for the Stones. There's a weightiness to this, but Steve makes his way through to the temple and waits until Rhodes and Nebula make it there. He watches, heart in his throat, as Nebula — precious Nebula — forces her hand through the forcefield surrounding the Power Stone, metal and synapses firing and shattering to shreds as she destroys herself in pursuit of their goal.

Steve doesn't want to hear what they're saying, doesn't want to know the secrets that these two are sharing in their direst of moments. But he hears the words, watches in shock and damnation as Rhodes disappears and Nebula… doesn't. He feels the Power Stone pop into existence out of its pocket dimension and he knows he's supposed to put it back, supposed to make this happen, but he can't leave Nebula and—

He leaps to his feet and darts across the temple. He fumbles across Nebula's face and throat, anything to help him get through to her.

"Nebula. Nebula!"

She jerks, her eyes flashing and flaring as she responds to her name. "Rogers," she gasps, "what—"

"Gotta put the Stones back, right? C'mon." He punches in her coordinates and activates the cross dimensional travel. "You've got places to be and people to save."

"Rogers—"

He smiles tightly and shakes his head. "Save it. Got too many people still to save."

Then he activates her device and steps away, watching as she shimmers out of existence in front of him.

It settles him, somehow. Knowing that there must be a timeline where Nebula makes it back in one piece and doesn't sabotage them against her will, doesn't take them apart in ways that no one ever thought she would. He clings to that hope as he darts across the planet to the ship that will take him to Vormir. He has to make it there, has to find out what it cost Nat and Clint to do what they did and if his theory is correct.

The flight to Vormir is too much to settle him, too much to make it feel like anything but a waste of time and space and oxygen. He knows what he's here to do, knows what he's here to stop, but that doesn't mean there's as much to him as the world he'd left behind.

Vormir is just as dark and terrifying as Clint had described. Steve lands the ship on the opposite side of the mountain from where Clint and Nat had landed theirs. He takes off at a run toward the peak of the mountain as soon as he's landed, toward what's waiting for him at the other end. He makes peak quickly enough that he gets to hear Nat and Clint arguing about who's going to take the plunge, who's going to give their soul for the other. Steve closes his eyes and resists the urge to bash his head against the stone behind him. It's going to be okay, it's going to be fine, and there's no way he's going to settle for it to be anything but.

That doesn't mean he can wait for anything else, anything different, and he sure as shit can't interfere and let them fail to meet the expectation the world had set for them. There's no way this can go any way than the way it did before and Steve doesn't get to change anything. He only gets to stand here and listen to the way they argue, listen to Nat's desperation when she chases Clint over the edge, listen to Clint's pain when he thinks he's failed Nat. It breaks Steve's heart and there's nothing for it but to accept the way the world has been as cruel to his friends as it has been to him.

The hairs on the backs of his arms stand on end, his heart in his throat as he tries to deny what's happened. That Nat is, for the moment, dead. The moment hangs, suspended in time and stretched like taffy as he tries not to sink into the despair that is losing Nat for a second time.

Then the air crackles with static electricity and Steve doesn't let himself falter in the wake of the realization that Clint, too, is gone, though not dead. The weight presses against his chest, heavy and unrelenting as he waits for what is about to come. He's ready to put up a fight, ready to absolutely destroy the Red Skull if that's what it takes to get them out of this, what it takes to make the world theirs again, ready to do anything, ready _for_ anything, and—

"Well now, Captain. Time for you to come on out."

Well. Anything but that.

Steve closes his eyes against the desperation in his chest, against the need to be whatever he could possibly be to make this right. He can do this. He can.

Steve gets to his feet and rounds the corner to face the Red Skull. There's ache and pain in his chest for the man — _monster_ — that stole seventy years of his life from him. "Schmidt."

He tilts his head to the side. "Captain."

"You know why I'm here."

"I know why you think you're here."

Steve doesn't let himself close his eyes, doesn't let himself succumb. "Then you know I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get what I came here for."

Schmidt smiles, lips pulled wide and unholy in an inhuman face. "I know you're ready to try."

 _A soul for a soul_ and Steve knows what he's here to do. Facing down the Red Skull twists his gut, leaving him just as sick to his stomach as he'd expected it to but he breathes through it, holds out the Stone and demands his payment. "A soul for a soul. I brought it back. So give her back."

Schmidt's expression turns thoughtful. "You think it's that simple?"

"A soul for a soul. That's the deal."

Schmidt reaches out, fingers extended toward the Stone hovering between Steve's own fingers.

Steve pulls it back. "Show me Natasha and I'll give it up without a fight."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"I am a Stonekeeper. I have my responsibilities."

"And I have your damn Stone. Give me Nat and I'll give you the Stone."

"A soul for a soul." Schmidt sneers. "Very well then." With a snap of his fingers, Natasha appears between them, eyes closed and face pale as death.

Steve staggers forward, heart in his throat as he looks at her. "Nat."

"The Stone, Captain."

Steve extends his hand, eyes for Natasha alone. He only just holds back when it occurs to him that he has no proof of life. He pulls the Stone back just in time. "How do I know you're good for it?"

"You don't. But you're not the one with the power here."

"I have the Stone."

"And I have her soul. What is your point?"

Steve swallows. He has no response to that. Slowly, uneasily, he holds the Stone out to Schmidt. He has no way to turn back now.

The instant the Stone shifts possession, Natasha sucks in a huge breath, all the color returning to her face. She falls to her knees, a marionette whose strings have been cut. "Steve?"

Steve pulls her to her feet and away from Red Skull, fingers ghosting over her features just to assure himself that she's alive. "Nat."

She's shaking in his arms. "What happened?"

"There's no time." He pulls the first watch off his wrist, leaving him with the one he hadn't admitted to pulling off Tony's corpse when he'd carried him off the battlefield. "Take this. Take this and go."

Natasha looks from him to the watch and back again. "What aren't you telling me, Steve?"

"Everything," he says, the smile too natural on his lips. "But you have to trust me on this."

Natasha looks down at her wrist where he's already buckled the watch in place. "You're doing something rash again, aren't you?"

Steve laughs. "Always."

Natasha shakes her head, then goes up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. "Stay safe."

"Always."

Then she's gone, quick and easy as anything.

"So thoughtful."

Steve flinches at Schmidt's words. "Shut up."

"As soon as you are on your way, I will."

Steve bares his teeth out of habit alone, the need to take Schmidt down trying to drown him. "You're a monster."

Schmidt just spreads his arms wide, the familiar smirk on his face. "As you have always known me to be, Captain."

Steve closes his eyes and forces himself not to look any closer into what Schmidt is saying. "I'm going now."

"Best of luck on your quest."

Steve looks up before he can think better of it. "What?"

The answering look on Schmidt's face is sinister. "I think it will be a worse punishment than even I could have thought up for you."

Steve looks away and down at his wrist, confirming the coordinates he'd already programmed into the second watch. He clenches his eyes shut again and immediately locks in the coordinates, unwilling to give Schmidt any more time to fuck with his head. He's on a mission, and there's nothing Schmidt can do to stop that.

Nothing.

* * *

Steve lingers in 1970. The sight of Tony, relaxed in his skin, loosens the knot in his chest that he hadn't dared to admit was there. He isn't certain coming here next was the right call, but Schmidt's words still resonate down the line of his spine, an ache and a promise too cruel to be anything but the truth. So Steve comes here, to 1970, and finds the space to stand aside and watch Tony and his double move slow and steady and tender through the world. It isn't right or fair that Tony has such a small amount of time left after this in his own life, but Steve forces the thought aside.

He follows Tony down to the annals and archives, keeping to the edges of the halls so that Tony will be none the wiser. When they make it to the place the Tesseract awaits them, Steve can do nothing but stand in the corner and watch. Listen, as Howard asks Tony who he is, what he's doing here. Tony is achingly impossible, stumbling over his words as he does what Howard bids, as he works toward what this might be. What it could be. What it will be for him. This isn't the world Steve wants for Tony, but he can't take it from him.

As the pair make their way out, Steve lingers, his heart leaving with them. He stays, timing the whole thing in his mind as he waits for what's to come. Just as each time before, there's an instant where the hairs on the back of Steve's arms stand on end, the whole universe shifting as the Stone vanishes into the Quantum Realm and the science of desperation that Tony had brought them. The temptation to follow is strong, but Steve has a job. He slips the Tesseract from the pocket dimension and settles it back into the safe Tony had so recently snatched it from. Steve waits for the space of a breath, fingers lingering on the still-warm edge of the safe that Tony had sliced through. It's not Tony, but it's his tech, which is really the same thing at the end of the day. Steve lingers, clinging to this last remnant of Tony before he goes forth and gives everything for the world. This isn't what he wants, but it's what he has.

If this is what he has to do to keep things right, he will do so.

He reaches for his watch and programs in the next destination. Keep moving. Just keep moving.

* * *

Steve takes his time in 2012. There's something warm and aching, desperate and hopeful in his chest to be back in this place and time, this moment where Tony was still present, still his, still so much more than he ever could have let himself believe they could be. There's so much potential here, squandered in his naive hands. It's a damned thing to watch the version of himself that had been here just days ago fighting the version of himself that had lived through the timeline the first time. There's so much here to untangle and unwrap, a whole world at his feet that he has to leave behind.

And he has no time for any of it.

He starts with the Mind Stone. He doesn't have Loki's Staff in all its glory with him, nestled as it is in the pocket dimension with its brethren, but he will have it shortly, ready to pass along to the next world. He waits until Scott has disappeared before he pulls it from the pocket dimension and makes his way to where he'd so recently fought a past iteration of himself. The place is still in utter chaos and there's nothing to do but to make his way through it all toward the top. He doesn't go all the way to the penthouse, preferring to meander through this, one of Tony's greatest achievements. A monument to clean energy and so much more than Steve can truly comprehend. A place they'd abandoned after Ultron had demolished its beauty in their minds. They'd caved once before. Steve can't help but hope that they won't cave again.

When he makes it to the spot one version of him has just abandoned, Steve gives himself a moment to stand over his own prone body. The Mind Stone is safe in the scepter and removed from the pocket dimension — for a given value of safe. He settles it on the ground beside his past self and tries not to wish for the opportunity to take his place. To let this Steve, still so ignorant of what the twenty-first century holds, return to the past to be with Peggy. To take his place instead to try and salvage a burgeoning relationship with the only person that he could ever have loved so deeply and truly.

But the man on the ground before him deserves the chance to make his own mistakes, and Steve can't save him from that. Not here, not now, and never, ever again.

He shifts the scepter with his toe on the ground beside his past self, feels the fear tighten in his chest, and turns away toward his next stop.

The streets of New York in utter chaos are altogether too familiar to him by now, but he doesn't let himself linger on it. He has a job to do.

It takes the better part of an hour to make his way to the Sanctum. New York is in disarray and it's only his relatively quick reflexes that keep him from getting cornered or caught out on three separate occasions. He wishes he had time to change out of his suit (hah, _time_ ), but there isn't any here, and all he can do is make his way to return the second to last Stone.

The second to last one that could save him. Save them.

He shakes off the errant thought and raises his hand to knock on the door of the Sanctum. It swings open in front of him before he can even touch the wood. He swallows down the concern and wonder and doubt, stepping over the threshold without a second thought. 

"You come with something of mine."

Steve lifts an eyebrow at the woman standing before him. The Ancient One, Strange had called her. "Yes. I suppose I do."

She tilts her head to the side. "Then you were successful."

Steve knows the smile he gives her is raw and broken, not quite making it to his eyes. "We achieved our primary objective."

Her features don't soften, but Steve thinks this is as close as she might ever get to that. "I see. I'm sorry for your loss."

Steve blinks. "Are you?"

She purses her lips. "I am only glad that you have returned what is mine to me. There is much that I must do to make ready for what is to come."

Steve closes his eyes. Her perfunctory dismissal of his pain is enough to have him reeling all over again. For someone to not understand exactly what Tony has done, what he has saved, how far he has gone to keep them all safe… it's appalling. He swallows past his pain and forces himself not to break down. He opens his eyes. "I see."

She holds out a hand. Steve can feel the spark in the air as she prepares to receive the Stone from him. It's already passed out of its pocket dimension. All Steve needs to do is hold it out to her.

He reaches into that space. The place where the Stones rest, and lifts it with the same deft hand that Strange had shown him. The Ancient One's face is alight in the green glow, her features thrown into stark relief.

Hah. _Stark_.

"You have done well to resist temptation and bring this to me."

Steve blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"This Stone is one of the most powerful artifacts in the universe. I know you know this. For you to bring it to me despite the potential that it provides… you have done well."

In that moment Steve realizes he has more power at his fingertips than anyone but three other beings. With the two remaining Stones at his disposal and the serum running through his veins he has the power to do so much more than he's given himself credit for. He can change this. He can change everything.

Something in him, he hadn't known was pulled tight, snaps in two. He has not one but two Infinity Stones left, and they leave him with all the power he needs to make this right. It might break the precious timeline to do what he needs to do, might shatter the edges of reality, but in this second, rubbed raw by the Ancient One's words and implications, it doesn't seem to matter. All he has left is the certainty that Tony deserved better than he got and the conviction to make it so. In that instant, Steve needs nothing more.

For a soldier, he never was very good at following orders.

He pulls the Time Stone away from the Ancient One, who looks utterly unsurprised, and activates the remains of Tony's backup gauntlet. The one he hadn't told anyone he was taking with him. He slips the Time Stone into place and clenches his fist. All at once, anything is possible.

He doesn't say a thing to the Ancient One. There's nothing to say. There is, for the moment, only the mission. His last mission. The only one he has left. There's power at his fingertips, strength and infinite possibility, and no one can stop him from achieving his objective. All he needs to do is reach for it.

* * *

The only reason he doesn't use the Stones right then is that he has one more shot with the watch. He lets it take him to Asgard and drops Mjolnir off somewhere that Thor will be able to find it. Call it to him. Whatever he needs to do. It's what he needed to do before—

Before.

Before he takes fate into his own hands and makes the future he never let himself believe was possible. Fuck limitations. Steve's never let them stop him before. That's the reason he became Captain America in the first place. Who is he to stop now?

He uses the Reality Stone to warp the gauntlet into something less obvious. A bracelet, just on the edge of reality, protecting the Stones and giving him access at the same time. With a snap of his fingers, Steve goes to the moment just before the last time he felt complete. Seconds before Tony had done the unthinkable and given everything for the universe he loved so much.

It's time for Steve to make this right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!----SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES BELOW----!!!!
> 
> This series includes:  
> \- **Death** in the form of Tony dying a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Like a thousand times a lot (hence the series title). If you'd like to have specifics on any of the deaths, feel free to shoot me a message on [tumblr](https://hollyandvice.tumblr.com/ask) or hit me up on Discord (holly#0515)  
> \- **Murder** in the form of Steve killing a past version of himself while in a grief rage.  
> \- **Underage** in the form of a 17 year-old Tony getting with a vaguely immortal Steve.  
> \- **Age Difference** in the form of Steve going back in time to protect little!Tony after being married to adult!Tony in the previous lifetime. Steve wisely fucks off to the other side of the planet for a few years but he does come back when Tony is nineteen and they do get married. Nothin untoward happens when Tony is underage.  
> \- **Canon-typical off-screen torture**.  
> \- Some sort of **relationship negotiations** between Steve, Tony, and Pepper. As I am currently over 100k words out from writing that particular encounter, I can't tell you what that will look like. I will update here as soon as I know.
> 
> I may be forgetting things. I've hit everything that I know is going to be in this series at this point, but, as I said, I'm not done yet, so there may be things that will pop up that I haven't realized. I will update here if anything changes and be sure to put any relevant info at the top of any chapter or installment that has new warnings. Please take care of you, though, and stay safe!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added one more warning to my original warnings in chapter one. If you're reading this directly after chapter one, no worries! If you're interested in what that additional series warning is, I've put it in the end notes of the FIRST chapter, and will tag it in the relevant installment.

It's chaos and death and destruction all around him, pain and suffering in its purest form. Battle at its height and its core. Steve has no sense of any of it beyond the reality of what he has to do. He ducks and bobs and weaves his way through the battlefield, instinct taking him as close to Tony's side as he dares go. He thinks he hears the explosion of the van across the battlefield, thinks he feels the world rock itself to the core, but it doesn't matter. He knows the exact spot where this battle will be won and this time he's going to get there first.

Then he sees Tony and whatever plan he may once have had flies from his mind.

Through the brilliant light that is Carol taking on Thanos in hand-to-hand combat, Steve only has eyes for Tony lying on the ground, body as battered and bruised as he has ever seen it save one other moment. Steve runs straight past the ongoing battle to Tony's side, his hands fluttering over the places the nanites have poorly patched his injuries. Poorly only, Steve can assume, because Tony has so many injuries they're trying to manage. It's one more reminder of how fragile Tony really is, how far Steve has come when he compares himself to what he was, what any other human is other than Carol. Tony stands beside gods and aliens as a man all his own. There can be nothing but pride in Steve's chest when he thinks again of what Tony is willing to do.

It isn't until Steve has checked Tony over that he realizes Tony isn't even looking at him. He's staring across the battlefield at someone Steve doesn't immediately recognize at this distance. Strange, his mind supplies. Stephen Strange. The air is charged with knowing, with understanding. There's something between these two, something that only they know, something that Strange is communicating by the single finger he lifts in the air as he stares Tony down.

In the split second Steve takes to realize that he's missing something here, Tony goes from prone to leaping to his feet, already halfway across the distance to Carol and Thanos. Steve realizes too late that Thanos is ready to do whatever it takes to carry out his plan, realizes too late that Tony is ready to do whatever it takes to stop him. The world slows down around Steve, his feet heavy and his legs leaden. For all that Steve wants to run to Tony's side and stop him, he knows even his speed isn't enough right now.

He briefly considers summoning Mjolnir to his side for a boost of speed, but there's no time. There has to be another way.

One, two, three staggering steps later, and Steve is forced to watch as Thanos tosses Tony aside like he weighs nothing, like he is nothing, and there's no time for Steve to do anything but sprint toward Tony. He knows he won't make it there before it's too late, but that doesn't mean he can't try. He runs and runs and there's nothing left to do, nothing left but to watch Tony snap his fingers and feel the world bend and warp the same way it had just days before. Steve feels himself wavering under the weight of the pressure. He's not strong enough to hold off the way he falls to his knees again, unwilling and unable to watch Tony die again. Unwilling and unable to leave him alone.

He swallows hard, licks his lips, and reaches for the bracelet on his wrist. Tony shifts in the corner of Steve's vision, and Steve lets himself wonder if Tony sees him. If he knows why Steve is here. If he knows what Steve is. But the pain must be immeasurable and there's no way Tony has the cognitive functioning to think beyond that.

The Stones slip out from the pocket dimension and back into reality, burning into his skin. Without another glance at Tony where he lies, dead or dying or somewhere in between, Steve lets the gauntlet fold over his hand, cold and unforgiving. He wastes no time before, in the hollow resonance left behind by Tony's snap, he follows suit.

* * *

The second time he runs faster. He doesn't let himself look anywhere but at Tony, doesn't let himself pay any attention to the charge in the air between Tony and Strange. There is nothing but the mission. There is power in the strength of his conviction, and he'll be damned if he does anything but keep running to Tony's side.

But reality pulls at him, time and space tugging at the edges of his body and holding him back until there's no time, no space, and only Tony charging for Thanos to take the gauntlet. He catches sight of Steve at the last second, confusion in his eyes, but his lips thin and he turns back to Thanos, speaking words Steve cannot hear, before he snaps and turns the Titan to dust.

Steve doesn't bother to wait. He readies the Stones and lets time and reality bend to his will instead of the other way around. Third time's the charm, right?

* * *

Steve makes it to Tony's side this time, one hand reaching out for him in order to take the Stones from him, to take this burden from him. Tony's face is twisted with an emotion Steve thinks must be confusion or disdain but there's no time to stop, no time to figure it out, no time to change course, so he dives for Tony and watches as the confusion melts into fear before his eyes. Tony doesn't even finish his quip to Thanos, the words seeming stuck behind his teeth as he snaps his fingers.

Steve doesn't need to ask why. He can feel the echo of dust over the back of his neck and knows Thanos was a heartbeat away from snatching him away from Tony to get to the Stones. Steve feels the guilt thick and heavy on his tongue as he stares down at Tony's crumpled form. Tony's breath rattles in his chest as Steve kneels beside him, easing him partially upright and over to that space where Steve had come upon him just days before. Steve takes one tiny, guilty moment to card his fingers through Tony's hair, the gray not as strange as he'd once thought.

"I'm sorry." Tony turns toward his voice, despite the softness of the words. Tony's lips start to move, a whisper of a word, but Steve isn't ready to hear it. "I'm going to make this right."

* * *

Steve stops paying attention to the number of times he rushes to Tony's side. The number of times he fails. There's no way he's going to let up. He has to save Tony. He has to.

But this isn't working, this isn't working, and Steve knows there has to be a reason but he can't— he can't—

There has to be a way.

The thought comes like a lightning strike. There is. There's another way. He just has to take a shot at it. It's Stones on skin and it's been less than an hour since he left the Ancient One's side but Steve feels like he's aged years. There's nothing but this, nothing but the world between the palms of his hands, and he'll take whatever it gives, whatever he can wrangle from the universe to keep Tony alive. If this isn't the moment Steve can save him, he'll try something else. Something different. Something deeper and stronger and—

The compound. That has to be the answer. Steve refuses to look at Tony again, refuses to let himself fall victim to his own sentimentality and instead pulls the Stones back into reality and lets them fold him back into their cold embrace. Back into the moment when everything really could have changed.

* * *

In hindsight, storming right into the middle of an Avengers briefing looking like one of said Avengers may not have been Steve's brightest tactical move. Trying to move past Thor and snatch the gauntlet from where it sits in the middle of the room just leaves him bruised and angry, with his own face staring back at him.

It doesn't matter, though. He'll just have to be smarter the next time. Hindsight may be useless for most people, but Steve has the power of two Infinity Stones at his beck and call. Hindsight is just a blueprint for what to do better next time.

So when Rhodes pulls the other version of Steve off and aims a gun at Steve's face, Steve just rolls his eyes, gets to his feet, and waits for the split second when they're not looking to duck out of the room and out of the compound. He doesn't completely clear the grounds, waiting instead on the edges as the world shifts and warps around him, Bruce bringing the universe back into balance. He waits until Thanos' ship appears over the compound — no, _inside_ the compound — destroying it from the inside out. His gut twists and he almost gives into the desire to use his own Stones against Thanos. But there's a chance that really could rip at the fabric of the universe, could destroy everything he wants. He leaves his Stones untouched.

It's an easy thing to shadow Tony without gathering too much attention. He's shifted the time suit to make him a bit less conspicuous and his face is covered in ash from every time he's fought this battle. But in the end it still isn't enough, and he lets himself get caught up in the fight, in the joy of his friends returned to him, in the weight of knowing what's still to come. When the moment comes again, the world stilling around him and raising the hairs on the back of his arms, he can only close his eyes and know that he's failed again.

As the world settles around him into the new normal, Steve lets the weight of loss settle against his skin. Not his best tactical maneuver to be sure, but that doesn't mean he can't do better next time.

He slips off the battlefield into the remains of the compound and calls the stones back into reality. Then, all at once, he slips out of that reality and into the liminal space that will let him try again.

* * *

This time he hides at the edges of the room, waiting until Thor and Tony are in the thick of their argument to reach for the gauntlet where it rests on the table. He hadn't counted on Bruce, though, who grabs him by the wrist with one hand and takes the gauntlet with the other. Steve knows what Bruce is going to say before he does.

"Cap?"

"Yes?"

Bruce turns to the other Steve in the room, brow furrowed as he looks between the Steve in the room and the Steve in his grip. "Either of you want to tell me what's going on?"

For his part, Steve just glares at his counterpart, feeling all the rage and pain and self-loathing of the last hour curdle in his stomach. He shoves Bruce off of him, willing to take Rhodes and Rocket and Clint turning their weapons on him only by virtue of the fact that he's looking at himself instead of at Tony.

"Who are you?"

Steve sneers at his counterpart. "Exactly who you think I am." He's probably wrong on that front. He doesn't think he'd have expected being driven to using the Stones to fulfill his own desires.

As expected, the other version of himself takes a step forward, eyes sharp and bright. "What do you want?"

The question rocks Steve to his core in a way he hadn't expected. He'd thought he'd known the answer to that question — Tony's health and safety; Tony's _life_ — but somehow hearing the question from his own lips is too much. "I—"

The stutter seems to be enough to calm the other version of himself. "Whatever it is, we can help. But not right now. This is too important."

Steve closes his eyes. "No, Cap. It isn't. Not more important than what you're going to lose." He turns and looks at Tony, the words heavy in his chest. "Not more important than what I've already lost." Tony's eyes go wide, the fingers of his right hand flexing instinctively. Steve's eyes dart down to follow the motion, his heart in his throat. Steve looks up and meets Tony's eyes, smiling at him through the pain. "Yeah."

"Bruce," Tony says, "gauntlet. Now." He doesn't look away from Steve. "How bad?"

"Bad."

Tony swears. "And Bruce can't—"

"He could try. I don't think it would work."

"Because?"

"Because he'd have to understand what's going on in time."

"And there's—"

"No time."

Tony swears again and turns to Bruce. "You know what to do, big guy."

Bruce looks startled at the rapid fire exchange between Steve and Tony, but seems to understand the weight of the moment. He nods at Tony and slips the gauntlet onto his hand. Everyone else in the room seems just as confused as Bruce, and Steve sees his counterpart start to cross the room toward Tony, but Steve doesn't stay. He just turns and runs out the door to get his hands dirty as quickly as possible. Anything to try to keep Tony safe.

He shadows Thanos this time, sticking to him and the cronies in his immediate vicinity instead of getting too far out of reach. He waits and he watches and when the van explodes somewhere vaguely to his left he starts to count the seconds he has left.

He's learning the rhythm of this, the heft and weight and timing of it, learned to manage himself and his time between the explosion and the moment he loses everything. But in an instant of distraction he loses sight of Thanos, loses sight of the only lifeline he has to keep Tony safe. Still, he knows the lay of the land, knows the way to Tony's side, and even if he's only making his way over to watch Tony die again, he owes Tony that much. 

Tony doesn't turn to look at him. Why would he? He doesn't know Steve's there. But Steve watches, a silent sentinel as Tony gives his life for the universe. There's something about watching it — really watching it, from across the battlefield with no ability or option to save him — that's different than watching the aftermath. Tony is impossibly regal as he kneels there, hand lifted in damning certainty as he stares Thanos down. Steve can hear the easy assertion ( _I am Iron Man_ ) without needing to be close.

He knows how seriously Tony took this mission, this whole attack on time and reality, and watching himself give his life over in service of the mission leaves Steve nauseous. There's no no ache in Tony's features, nothing at all to signal that this isn't what he wanted for himself.

_Bring back what we lost? I hope, yes. Keep what I found? I have to. At all costs._

_And maybe not die trying would be nice._

Steve refuses to close his eyes until the deed is done. Until Thanos is dust and Tony is slumping against the ground. Until Peter and Pepper and Rhodes are all at Tony's side, the family Tony made with his own two hands. Steve's chest aches, his whole body tired and lost in this moment. But there's no time for that. There's only time to get up, get moving, and find the next possibility. The next option. He reaches for the stones at his wrist and pushes toward the moment when he knows Nebula is waiting to bring Thanos through.

* * *

He's too slow when he tackles Nebula to the ground. The ship is already coming through. Steve punches Nebula unconscious and scrambles to his feet to make his way out onto the battlefield. Slashes and burns his way through as many bodies as he can and still falls short of what he wants to achieve. Still has to watch Tony fall.

He doesn't succumb to the desire to scream, doesn't fall to his knees and beg the heavens for the right path. He just wants to make this right, but it's not going to be enough. So he drags himself back to his center, wraps his hand around the stones and pulls them back into reality. This is what he has to do. He's set himself on this course and there's no way off without understanding this path he has chosen.

All he can do is move forward. So he does. Again and again, finding every chink in their armor, every way he can think of to try to take Thanos down. He tries to destroy the time travel platform before Thanos' ship can come through; he's too slow. He tries fighting Thanos alongside his other self just before the rest of the Avengers come through; Thanos reads them too well. He tries and it's never, ever enough.

He almost starts to think that it doesn't matter. He's already lost Tony more than three dozen times now. If he were a quitter, this is when he would lay down the Stones and let the universe have the end it has condemned him to.

But he's not a quitter. He's a strategist. And if the answer isn't here, at the end of times, then maybe the answer is further back. Back when things were still fresh and bright. When they were new and shining. When he still had the power to change everything.

Or maybe not so far back. Maybe back when things were clear and powerful, when the world was still theirs to change. When everything had felt possible and Steve had thought he knew everything and had only needed the right kick in the pants to turn everything around and save them all from destruction. Maybe only just as far back as that moment when Steve had broken everything.

Maybe this changes with the Accords.

He sets the moment in his mind, sees the instant that everything started to fall apart, and holds it in his mind as a memory, crystalline and clear. He lets it resonate down his bones and into the Stones. He reaches for that moment in time and falls through.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve isn't sure how he wants this all to play out. He knows there's going to be skepticism in every action he takes, every step of this path he's chosen. There are powers at play here that even now he doesn't fully understand. He can't think any further than his own mistakes when it came to how this whole terrible week had gone down. There was so much more he could have done differently, better, and the thought of what, exactly, he should be doing still escapes him. There are so many ways he can fix this, fix everything, but he doesn't trust himself not to make it worse. He slips into the compound and into one of the common rooms, ignoring the way FRIDAY seems highly skeptical of his everything.

"It's me, Fri," he says, the smile on his face more real than anything has been in days. "Promise."

He thinks he can feel FRIDAY glaring at him from every video camera in the place, but he tries not to let it bother him. This is his home as much as any place has ever been, aside from maybe that tiny little shithole he'd shared with Bucky back in his late teens. Seeing the compound in all its original glory is comforting, calming in a way that nothing else has been for days. Steve presses his palms against the concrete walls and settles back into his skin. Not enough to make a game plan, but enough to think more clearly than he has since—

"Steve?"

Fuck.

Steve doesn't turn to look when he hears Tony's voice. It's not tinny, but it does have that hint of artificiality that suggests that it's coming from the speaker in the room. He doesn't turn, but he does practically stagger over to a chair, slumping into it. He's seen Tony since he died, sure, but only in fleeting moments of battle and pain. To hear him, so clear and calm and honest is more than Steve was prepared for when he'd jumped back to this moment in time. It's what he'd wanted, what he'd yearned for as he'd thought about what the stones could give him, but to have it is almost too much. Tony, whole and healthy and as happy as possible, his mind and body complete and intact. 

"Steve, what the hell? FRIDAY said you just came back, but you're supposed to be—"

"I know where I'm supposed to be, Tony." It comes out more snappish than Steve intends. He knows where he's supposed to be. In Germany, about to try to tear Tony's team apart, about to destroy public property and turn the whole fucking world upside down. About to destroy the lives of two people he cares so deeply about — more than two, a dozen or more, if he's being honest, and that's only in this action right now. In the long term….

"I know where you think I'm supposed to be, Tony, but I'm right where I'm meant to be. I swear to you."

Tony's quiet for long enough that Steve thinks Tony must have hung up on him. But then there's an echo down the line that sounds too much like Tony's sigh to be anything but. "Cap," he starts, but Steve cuts him off.

"Steve. You know I hate it when you all me Cap. I'm more than my title, Tony, you know that. You are too."

"Steve, then. What's going on?"

Steve swallows, closing his eyes. There's trust in Tony's tone, the kind Steve's spent the better part of seven years wishing for. It aches in a way that has him wanting to tell Tony everything. To lay the truth at his feet. All of it. Everything. Every last goddamn thing that's going to lead Tony to his death in just a few short years.

"Steve?"

"Tony… It's more than I can tell you right now. It's… it's complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it, Steve. I don't have time for your games."

"No," Steve concedes. "No, I suppose you don't." He sighs, levering himself out of the chair he'd sunk into at the sound of Tony's voice. "You have a manhunt to conduct."

"Steve—"

"I'll catch you later, Tony."

Steve walks out of the room, ignoring the way Tony's voice follows him from room to room as he makes his way out of the compound. If Steve is really going to stop this, he's going to have to go to the source of the problem, and that isn't Tony.

It's himself.

* * *

The Reality Stone seems to protest being used thus, but Steve bends the plane ticket into existence and makes his way across the ocean to Germany to face himself down. There are battles to be fought, but there's so much to be done here, now, before the moment that broke the team beyond repair. Steve has all the knowledge and none of the power. It's the worst feeling in the world. All he can do is go to the other him and lay all his cards on the table, be open and honest and give everything he has to give because if he doesn't he'll have nothing left.

It's Sam that spots him first, because of course it is. Steve's staring down the barrel of a gun before he's done much more than lift his ball cap off his head. "Don't move."

Steve smiles. For all that he had a few days with Sam after Bruce's Snap, in other ways he's still the man that Steve spent five years missing like a limb. "Hello Sam."

The other him startles, turning to face Steve. Steve stares back at the relatively unlined face before him. The version of himself that doesn't know what's waiting for him at the other end of the universe. The version of himself that so desperately wants what he thinks is right without thinking of the repercussions. The one that can only see Bucky and can't think of anyone else. Of Clint's family. Of Scott's and even Sam's. This version of himself that sees only the battle in front of him, the war that he thinks only he can win.

It makes Steve sick to his stomach.

Sam takes a step closer, drawing Steve's attention. "What do you want?"

"Just a minute of your time."

"Why?"

Steve turns to look the other version of himself in the eye. "Because you're making a mistake. A bigger one than I can even begin to make you understand."

"And we should believe you why, exactly?" Sam asks.

"I don't expect you to," Steve concedes. "Not without proof that I am exactly who you don't want to think I am." The next two words he speaks directly to himself. "Devin Collins."

The other him goes pale, eyes widening in his face. "What did you say?"

"Devin Collins."

"Sam." The other him puts a hand on Sam's shoulder as he lowers his weapon slightly. "He's who he says he is."

Steve nods the concession. "You need to stand down."

The other him — Cap, Steve starts to think of him in his mind; anything to keep him separate from Steve himself — bristles at the words. "Come again?"

"I know you think you're helping, but this path is not the one you want to follow."

"And you know this how?"

Steve's smile feels brittle. "Experience."

"Oh wow," Scott says, his eyes lighting up. "You're like, from the future, right? Or an alternate universe or something, here to change the course of this earth and save us from some terrible fate?"

Steve shouldn't be as surprised as he is that it's Scott that comes up with the answer. He was, after all, the one that came up with the idea that saved them all.

All but Nat and Tony.

Steve stands up a little straighter. "Something like that."

Scott looks like he's about to start asking more questions, but Cap silences him with a look. He turns back to Steve. "If you're who you say you are, you know how important this is."

"It's not worth the cost."

"Which is?"

Steve hesitates. If he knows himself at all, he knows that hearing anyone say that Tony is more important than Bucky will only serve to set him off on the very mission Steve is trying to keep him from. Cap seems to sense his hesitation, and Steve can't stop the smirk at the way Cap's pointedly raised eyebrow makes Sam and Scott both stand up a little taller. But the sound of the planes taking off on the tarmac is enough to give Steve the strength to straighten and say what needs to be said. "Too high."

Cap just shakes his head. "Not good enough."

"I'm telling you, there is nothing on this earth or off it that's worth what you're going to lose if you go through with this."

"It's _Bucky_."

"Dammit, Cap, you're not above the law!"

Cap's laughter is harsh and brusque. "The law that they saw fit to use to suppress us without even trying to negotiate with us?"

"What the hell do you think Tony's been doing?"

Cap's jaw snaps shut, his eyes wide as they settle on Steve's face. "He's on their side."

"He's on no one's side, Cap. No one's but the people he cares about. And you're one of them, if you'd only let him."

"So you want me to, what? Just walk out there and surrender myself to him?"

"You're breaking international law and you'll be operating as a fugitive in less than a week if you don't change course right the fuck now."

"And you know this—"

"— From experience, yes. You don't have to trust me, but you have to understand: take this path, and I swear to you, this entire planet will suffer the consequences."

Cap hesitates. Steve can see it in the way he glances at Sam out of the corner of his eye, the way he shifts his weight from foot to foot trying to shake the uncertainty Steve knows he put there.

"Please."

It's that last word that undoes everything. Cap's eyes go sharp, his features stony, and he turns away. "I'm not changing course on an oath from a man I don't trust worth a damn."

Steve almost throws the words back into Cap's face, asking him if that means he doesn't trust himself. If the word of his own future self isn't enough to make him stray from the reckless path he's chosen.

He holds his tongue. He already knows the answer to both of those questions.

He nods. "Alright. Just do me a favor: when you think you have to apologize, do both of yourselves a favor and don't." Steve doesn't look back when he turns on his heel and heads back into the airport. There's no stopping his other self, no reasoning with the unreasonable, and Steve has bigger fish to fry if he wants to keep this from getting too far out of hand. If his past self won't fix what needs fixing, he'll just have to do it himself.

* * *

Tony must not check the logs when he comes back from Germany to the compound, body clearly aching. He makes it all the way to the common room without registering that Steve is there. When he does, the exhaustion on his face morphs immediately to defensiveness and worry. "The hell did you do to beat me here, Rogers?"

Steve doesn't answer. It's the first time in too long since he's seen Tony, whole in a way he hasn't been since 2018. Maybe not since this very moment in Steve's own timeline. It leaves him dry-mouthed and at a loss for words.

It's the silence that seems to get to Tony. "Cap?"

Steve shakes himself. "Steve, please. You know I hate it when you use my title."

Tony's face shifts. "You're not Steve."

Steve inclines his head. "Not your Steve," he concedes. "I am Steve, but not as you know him."

Tony has a gauntlet on his hand, repulsor armed and ready to fire within seconds. "Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?"

Steve swallows, turning his palms to face Tony and show that he's unarmed. "I'm not here to hurt you, Tony. That's not… that's not why I'm here."

"Prove it."

Slowly, steadily, Steve lifts his hands, crossing them behind his head. With the same deliberate slowness, he lowers himself to his knees, bowing his head to Tony. "You can take the shot, Tony. We both know I won't survive it. If you really don't think you can trust me, you take that shot right now, because this world may be damned regardless, and I don't have the capacity to watch it burn again if you won't hear me out."

When the repulsor whine finally stops, Steve feels like he's had his first victory in hours. The first since he stepped onto the time travel pad to return the stones. He hasn't slept well since Tony died, and he's only had a pair of short catnaps on the flights to and from Germany since starting this endeavor. His body is starting to feel the strain. He doesn't look up at Tony, though. Not yet. He's still waiting to pass judgment, Steve knows.

It isn't until Tony crouches down in front of him that Steve risks a glance up at him. Tony tilts his head to the side at that, curiosity seeming to win out over mistrust.

"Where's Barnes?"

"Probably with other me."

Tony's nose wrinkles. "Yeah, you're gonna have to explain that sooner rather than later. Not sure I'll buy it, but it'll be fun to hear what you come up with."

Steve shifts a hand, the bracelet shifting on his wrist. "You wanna see a trick?"

Tony purses his lips. "Sure. I like tricks."

Steve shifts his wrist, moving it out from behind his head and turning it to show Tony. "Infinity Stones."

Tony blinks. "What, like that thing running Vision's skull? And the Tesseract?"

"One and the same."

Tony hums, getting to his feet and gesturing to Steve to do the same. "Color me intrigued. What's your story?"

"I'm from the future." Steve twists the bracelet on his wrist, activating the gauntlet and tapping each of the two stones embedded there. "The green one manipulates time. The red one manipulates reality. With the two of them and a little help, it's enough to let me travel through time."

Tony quirks an eyebrow at him. "A little help?"

The smile that spills over Steve's face is pure affection, ease and comfort at the familiar banter. "You're the leading expert on Infinity Stones where I come from. You've done a hell of a job shaping their power to your will."

Tony snorts and turns away, shoulders slumping in a way that makes Steve's gut twist. "Sure. Tell that to Vision. And all of New York. And Sokovia."

"Tony—"

Tony puts a hand up. Steve goes silent. There's a long moment where Tony stands there, shoulders shaking minutely. Steve's chest aches, but there's nothing he can do here but wait.

Tony straightens and turns to Steve, his face hard. "Alright. Say what you're telling me is true. That you're from some… some sort of future. Why here? Why now?" He shakes his head before Steve can speak. "Of course. The Accords. You're here to tell me not to sign them. Well, unfortunately you're too late for that. Might need to twist that bracelet a little further next time if you want to—"

"Not you, Tony. I'm not here to tell you what to do. I'm here to stop myself."

Tony blinks. "Yourself."

"I made the wrong call, Tony. In so many ways. This is just one of too many mistakes to count. If I can change things now, maybe—"

Tony holds up a hand again. "You're not going to fix things, Steve. If I helped you with that time travel device like you said I did, I would have told you that."

_You couldn't_ , Steve doesn't say. _You couldn't because you were dead._ "You did," he says instead, "but I'm not here to fix my future. I'm here to create a world and a timeline where everything doesn't end up the way it did for me. I can't fix my timeline, but no one deserves what I went through. I want to change things for someone, even if I can't change it for me."

Tony's forehead wrinkles with a frown. "Why?"

Steve's voice catches in his throat. The answer is too close, too raw, too painful with Pepper and Morgan's black dresses just days away in his memory. "Why?"

"That's what I asked."

"Because… Because, Tony, that's just who I am. I need to make things right. Wherever there's something wrong in the world, I just… I have to make it right. I have to."

Tony contemplates him. There's something like understanding dawning behind his eyes. Then he blinks and his expression shutters. "You know I have to go find you. The other you."

"I know."

"Then why here? Why me? Why not him?"

"I tried. We both know I'm— _he's_ a stubborn bastard."

"He didn't listen?"

"He didn't listen."

Tony sighs. "I guess I can't say I'm surprised. So, what? You thought you'd try the rational man instead?"

Steve lifts his hands in an unrepentant shrug.

Tony laughs. "Alright. Don't go far, though. I have questions for you."

For an instant, Steve thinks of holding Tony back. Of telling him to stay instead of following Cap to a broken moment that neither of them will ever completely recover from. There's no way this is going to end the way Steve wants it to, but if he can do anything to tip the scales in their favor, he will.

So instead of trying to hold Tony back, Steve gets to his feet. Tony raises an eyebrow as Steve drops the time suit's masking protocol to reveal his uniform.

"Not planning on going that far from you, Tony."

"You want to come with?"

Might as well even the odds. "If you'll have me."

Tony narrows his eyes. "I'd tell you to leave the Stones behind, but I can't say that would make me feel any safer." Steve smiles. "Alright, then. Not like I could very well stop you if I wanted to." He starts toward the helipad, presumably to make his way to the Raft before he stops. "You know where they are, don't you?"

"I have a guess."

"But you're not sure."

Steve shrugs. "I already changed the timeline talking to my other self. Could have changed a hell of a lot more than just that."

Tony nods. "Alright. The Raft it is, then. You'll stay in the copter."

Steve nods. "Lead the way." 

The fight to the Raft is silent. Steve does his best to catch up on some much-needed rest, but being so close to Tony again makes that impossible. All he can do is focus on Tony, on his closeness and his strength and the life flowing through his veins. The life that the future will steal from him all too soon.

Steve stays on the helicopter while Tony goes in to find out where, exactly, Steve and Bucky have fucked off to. When Tony lays in a course for Siberia with a pointed glance and Steve, Steve can only nod his assent.

Tony's lips thin. "No change on that front, it would seem."

"No. None."

Tony nods and turns to face the front of the helicopter, ready to set her flying to Siberia. Steve tries and fails to sleep the whole way there, and it isn't until Tony's suiting up and preparing to make his way down to an all-too-familiar bunker that Steve realizes there's more to be said.

"Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"Just… try not to be too rash with him."

Tony pauses. "What do you know?"

Steve closes his eyes, trying not to see again the look of anguish on the other Tony's face. _Did you know?_ "It's… I don't know if it will make things better or worse to tell you now."

"Knowledge can only make me stronger, Steve. What happens?"

Steve swallows. "They… they have a video. It's meant to break you. To break us. They're expecting you, Tony. Don't let them break you."

"They who? You and Barnes?"

"No. Our enemies. But they're expecting you. Just, please. Don't be rash."

Tony takes a step closer, eyes bright and vulnerable. "What do you know?"

"Tony…"

"Steve. Please."

Steve turns away, but when he hears Tony go to leave he reaches out to catch Tony's wrist. "Just… just give me a minute."

"Cap may not have a minute, Steve. If what you said is true—"

"It is, just… I don't want you going in half-cocked."

The trembling under Steve's palm lessens. "What do they have, Steve? What aren't you telling me?"

Steve takes a slow, deep breath through his nose, trying to settle the pain and trembling in his chest. "I can't."

Tony jerks away from his hold. Steve lets him. "Steve—"

"I just. I can't be sure that it won't make things worse to hear it from me. If you go in there angry and they don't listen to you, or you don't listen to them… Tony, what if I make things worse?"

Tony's quiet, seeming to mull the question over in his mind. Then he sighs. "Alright. You think it might make things worse? Fine, I'll trust you. But, Steve, if the future you came from is so bad, how can you know that this won't actually fix things? That it won't actually make things better?"

"Tony—"

"You don't. And you're not a coward, Steve. Never have been."

"It's not my story to tell."

"Then don't tell it. That's your call. But know that you might actually be making things _worse_ by meddling but only being willing to meddle halfway."

Steve tries not to let the words damn him. Tony's the genius, can run probabilities and numbers better than anyone Steve's ever known, and if Tony thinks it might make things worse to run and hide, who is Steve to argue? But to see that look on Tony's face any sooner than he has to—

The thought comes to him all at once, blinding and bright in its certainty. So clear that he can't imagine not having thought of it first.

"Let me go instead."

"What?"

"You have the information you needed on where they are, but you don't have to go down there yourself. Let me go instead of you."

"How exactly are you intending to get down there?"

Steve shrugs. "I've jumped out of more than my fair share of planes."

Tony rolls his eyes. "That's for damn sure. But you haven't signed the Accords. Ross'll never go for it."

"What Ross doesn't know won't hurt him."

The laugh startles itself from Tony's chest. Steve just raises an eyebrow at him in challenge. "Wait, you're serious?"

"'Course I am."

Tony shakes his head. "You're one reckless bastard, you know that?" Then he sobers. "But I can't, Steve. I may believe you, but that doesn't mean I'm trusting Cap to you. I need to know he's in good, safe hands, and… well, there's some truth to what he said."

Steve frowns, his memories of those days so far removed that he can't think of anything he would have said that Tony might have agreed with. "What did he say?"

Tony's smile is a little sad. "Sometimes the safest hands are still our own."

Steve's chest jolts, pain and uncertainty and _fear_ ricocheting around as he thinks of Tony's hand, burnt and marred beyond recognition. He closes his eyes against the strain and chokes down the guilt. "There are no safer hands than yours, Tony."

There's a long moment of silence. Steve doesn't let himself look down at Tony when he steps closer, and waits to hear the words from his lips first. "What the hell happened to you?"

Steve laughs, but it feels more like a choked-off whimper. "Something worse than my worst nightmare, Tony. Worse than anything I could possibly have imagined." Steve holds his breath and lets the pain swallow him whole. Then it passes over his head like a wave and the rest of the world comes back into focus. "But this is your world. Your reality. Not mine. You make the call. You don't want me to go in alone, I won't. But I'm sure as shit not letting you go in by yourself."

Tony considers him. Then he nods. "Alright. Better to have the backup, I suppose." He turns and settles down in one of the passenger seats, pressing a few buttons until the armor spreads up over his body, making him whole in a way that Steve had forgotten it could. Then Tony looks up at him, faceplate firmly in place. "Want a ride?"

* * *

Steve can't remember the last time he flew with Tony like this. Every other time has been in the heat of battle, and there's something to this, the two of them flying in easy, beautiful isolation, that makes everything feel a little different. A little stronger. A little better. But the sensation fades the closer Tony flies them to the bunker. It's not going to be enough. Nothing is.

He clings to Tony's neck, his arms wrapped tight around him. It's not the embrace of a friend and comrade that he's wanted for the last seven years, but it's something close. Some facsimile of what they could be. What they could have been.

"Hold on."

Steve tightens his grip. There's only the slightest of jostling as Tony lands them just outside the bunker. Tony makes quick work of the door, and Steve keeps to Tony's shoulder. He doesn't let himself peek over his shoulder, doesn't let himself second-guess where his other self is. There's only danger waiting for them here, only the end of the world in the balance.

It takes all his strength not to reach out and let his hand rest on the metal of Tony's suit just to remind himself that all this is real.

He tries not to listen too closely to what Cap and Tony are saying to each other, too busy trying to find Zemo on the off chance he can stave off the worst of what's to come. But he's not willing to stray too far from Tony either lest his other half take things even further than he had himself.

But then there's a screen in front of Cap and a video playing and all Steve wants is to drag Tony away from this, save him this pain, but he's too far, too slow, and he can't—

He can't stop Tony from slamming one gauntlet straight into Cap's face.

After that it's a matter of who can do what faster than everyone else, and it's all Steve can do to keep his other half from going at Tony full-tilt while also keeping Tony from becoming the kind of murderer Steve knows he could never forgive himself for being.

His other self has no such distractions. His sole purpose, as Steve's own had been, seems to be taking Tony and Steve down to protect Bucky. Through all that, though, it's Cap's words that cut Steve to the quick. 

"Him?" Cap yells, slamming the shield into Steve's chest, knocking him to the ground. "Him over Bucky? Are you fucking serious right now?"

"It's bigger than Bucky, Cap. Bigger than either of us." He grabs the shield out the air as Cap throws it at him. "You have to trust me. What's coming is bigger than either of us. Bigger than any of us. There's no way anyone is getting out of this alive if we don't learn to listen."

"You don't give a damn about anyone, do you? If this is what I become, I'm not sure I want to live to see whatever future you're carrying a flame for."

Steve feels the bottom drop out of his stomach. "You don't mean that."

"Bucky's all I have left. You know that as well as anyone. And you're choosing _him_ over—"

"Not over Bucky, dammit. You can have both. Don't you get it? It isn't either/or."

Cap shakes his head, charging forward and ducking under the shield to knock the wind out of Steve. Steve pitches forward, losing his grip on the shield. Cap catches it and, with more force than Steve would have thought possible, slams it into his temple before Steve can do anything to react. The world goes dark around him and all Steve can think is that Tony might have been right.

This might actually be worse.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony doesn't leave him in Siberia. Steve thinks he might have deserved it, but Tony doesn't do it. He's patting Steve's cheek when he rouses. There's still a heavy sorrow in Tony's eyes, more than Steve feels equipped to handle, but he pulls Steve to his feet like Steve didn't just let Cap hand Tony his heart on a platter.

"I didn't think it would actually be worse."

Tony gives him a tight-lipped smile. "How do you know it was?"

Steve doesn't have an answer.

Tony cobbles together enough of his gear to get a signal out to Pepper. When the jet she sends picks them up hours later, it takes nothing more than a look from Tony to keep everyone quiet. No one says anything about the state of Tony's suit and the marks that very clearly came from the shield Steve is carrying onto the jet with them. Steve isn't sure if he's grateful for the reprieve or pissed that Tony isn't letting Steve take his licks. It doesn't matter, though. He's Tony's man now. Tony gets to decide.

They're an hour out from the compound when Tony asks, "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Steve knows what the question is about without any more elaboration. He lets himself stew in his answer for a moment before he lets Tony have this weakness. "I was scared."

"Of?"

"Of being the one to make you feel that pain again."

Tony turns toward Steve. Steve knows he's supposed to match the motion, but he can't bring himself to meet the knowing in Tony's eyes. "Steve—"

"I can't, Tony. I can't be the cause of your pain. The whole point of this… the whole point of this was to—" Steve stops himself from revealing too much, but only just. It doesn't matter, though. This Tony still knows him well enough to see right through his abysmal poker face.

"Was to save me the pain?"

Steve closes his eyes, the words more damning than anything else Tony could have said.

Tony's fingers come to rest on Steve's elbow, lingering in a way that hints at a deeper sort of need. "Steve. We both know I have more pain coming than anyone else on this team. We both know I deserve it. We both know—"

"You don't, though." Tony goes silent. "You don't deserve the pain you've gone through, and you certainly don't deserve what we're going to live through because I was too damn stupid to put down my pride."

"But you did put down your pride, Steve. You put it down when you put on that goofy looking bracelet and came back into the past to try to save me from that pain. You just don't know how yet." Tony's fingers slide purposefully down his arm, circling around his wrist. "You have the power of the universe at your fingertips. You could do things no one else dreams of. But you chose to spend it making right the life of one person. That's the epitome of selflessness, Steve. More than anyone deserves or could expect. You may be a proud man, but you're not a fool. If this is what you came back to do, you'll find a way to do it. You always do."

Steve turns to look out the window of the jet. He can see the barest hint of the coastline, reminding him of what awaits him when they land. "I can't be open about who I am here."

Tony withdraws his hand. "No. You can't."

Steve sighs, looking down at the deep red of the Reality Stone where it rests on his wrist, still safe in its pocket dimension. "There are some things I can do, but I don't want to use the Stones if I can help it."

"Why?"

Steve shrugs. "Still getting used to them. To the power. Don't want to get too used to it. Don't want to abuse it."

Steve can hear the affection in Tony's voice when he speaks. "And you think yourself too proud."

"If I had just told you about the video in the helicopter—"

"I might still have reacted the same way. Knowing and seeing are two different things."

Steve takes the words for the olive branch they are, turning to face Tony. "I promise I won't get in the way, Tony. I won't be a problem. But if I can stand at your shoulder and do anything to make a difference. Anything that doesn't need my name. Know that I will do it without hesitation."

Tony smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I know you will Steve. And I promise you, I'll be calling on that."

Steve lets himself smile in return. "I'm counting on it."

* * *

Rhodes takes one look at the state of Tony's chest when they make their way into the medical wing and gets halfway upright before he seems to remember himself. He settles for glaring at Steve. "What the hell did you—"

"Wasn't him, Rhodey," Tony sounds as exhausted as Steve feels.

" _Bullshit_ it wasn't, this whole damn thing is on him."

"You don't mean that."

"Tony—"

"It's fine, Tony." Steve turns to face Rhodes's rage, feeling the ache of the memory of their slowly rekindled friendship carry him through. "He can say his piece."

Rhodes stops short at that. "What, just like that?"

Steve's smile feels brittle. "Just like that."

Rhodes turns to Tony. "What gives?"

Tony's smile is small and tired. "He's not our Steve."

Rhodes's eyes go wide. "What, you mean he's… I don't even know what to say to that."

Tony's smile widens. He turns to look at Steve. "You want to tell him, or should I?"

"He's more likely to believe you. Always has been."

Something flickers in Tony's eyes, a question that Steve knows he'll have to face later, but then he turns to Rhodes. "He's from the future. Apparently shit gets worse and doesn't get better. He thinks he's here to fix things."

"Thinks?"

Tony shrugs. "You know the theory as well as I do, Rhodey. Even if he fixes things for us, nothing changes for his timeline. He's just doing what he can with what he has."

Rhodes tilts his head to the side, contemplative. "Huh. And what exactly is it that he's come to fix?"

"He's been pretty tight-lipped on that front."

"With good reason." Steve isn't expecting the sharpness in his own voice when he speaks. Rhodes startles, looking at him with new eyes. "No one needs to know their future."

Tony hums, reaching for the gauze and an ice pack. "If it's bad enough that you think you need to come back and fix it, I have to think that there might be truth to the old adage. Knowledge might just be power."

Steve wets his lips, the familiarity and ease in Tony's motions almost too much for him. Like he's patched himself up like this before — battered, broken, alone. The knowledge twists in Steve's chest, leaving him hollow and aching. "Tony—"

"It's cool, Steve. This is your mission, not mine. You gotta do you or whatever."

Steve's across the room, hands on the gauze and taking it from Tony's fingers without a word. Tony looks up, meeting his gaze. The corners of his eyes soften, gentling in a way that tightens Steve's chest. Tony takes a step back, letting his fingers fall away from the gauze, and hops up on the table. Steve starts winding the gauze around the wounds, frowning at the ones that are still bleeding sluggishly. He tries not to let his fingers linger on Tony's skin. He mostly succeeds.

At least, that's what he tells himself, and as long as he keeps the thoughts to himself, no one has to know.

He finishes wrapping Tony's chest and doesn't manage to stop himself from reaching up to brush his fingertips over the black eye. Tony flinches. Steve draws his hand away and looks down. "Anything else I can help with, Tony?"

It's a moment before Tony replies, but Steve doesn't let himself look back up at him. "No. Go ahead and make yourself at home. It looks like Rhodey and I have plenty to talk about."

Steve takes the words for the dismissal they are. He nods at Tony, at Rhodes, and then turns on his heel and makes his way back out of the medical wing. There's space aplenty for Steve to feel uncomfortable and adrift in. No reason to intrude on their moment.

* * *

Steve keeps to the edges of the compound, checking in with FRIDAY each morning when he wakes to see if Tony needs him. He feels like a ghost moving through this space that once was his, this space that once felt like home. There are echoes of the people he loves here, echoes of Sam and Wanda and Nat, but they aren't the echoes he knows. Aren't the echoes of a friendship and a family forged in fire, or of a world left bereft of her people. This is the melancholy of a team without her leader, a team torn asunder by Steve's own hands.

He wonders if this is why Tony never wanted to come back to the compound after Thanos.

Tony finds him on day six of Steve's self-imposed semi-exile. Steve hears him coming long before he arrives and makes no move to turn away from his view of the grassy field beyond. He doesn't want to seem presumptuous by turning to face him too soon.

Tony settles his forearms on the railing as he stands beside Steve. He doesn't speak, letting the silence become heavy and thick between them. Waiting for Steve to break first.

"Is this what it was like for him, do you think?" The question spills over Steve's lips before he can think better of it. He bites his tongue on the desire to ask anything more, on the desire to take the words back.

He hears Tony shift and turn toward him. He doesn't say anything, just stands beside Steve with a foreign sort of openness in his posture. It unsettles Steve somewhat, this calm, open Tony that he hasn't seen or known in years.

It makes him weak.

"The loneliness," Steve elaborates. "Do you think this is what it was like for my Tony when this happened?"

Tony stiffens a little beside him. Steve winces. He hadn't meant to make the divide between them so wide, but he knows his words have done exactly that. "I don't know what it would have been like for him." Tony's voice is even, calm in a way that is at odds with the tension radiating along his frame. "But I know I'm grateful that I'm not alone. That I have someone here with me that understands." He turns more fully toward Steve, his head tilted ever so slightly. "That I have you."

Steve's heart stills in his chest. "Tony, I… I didn't mean to imply—"

"You didn't. Not knowingly. But that's not on you, that's on me." He reaches out, clasping Steve by the elbow. "There's strength in numbers, Steve, and god knows we have numbers right now. More than— than your Tony would have, and more than we probably need, but numbers give us an advantage, Steve. I swear to you, I won't squander it."

Steve's throat is tight, his eyes burning as he meets Tony's. "I know you won't, Tony. That was never a thought in my mind."

Tony nods, like it's all the confirmation he needs. Then he steps back and away from Steve and nods again. "Good. Then I take it you're in for the long haul."

Steve stands up a little straighter at the question. Not quite at attention, but something close to it. Tony's eyes crinkle at the edges as he watches. "Whatever you need me for, Tony, I'm your man."

Tony's fingers twitch at his side as though to reach for something. "Good," he says. "Then I'll see you at breakfast in the kitchen in the morning."

Steve blinks. "Come again?"

Tony grins. "You don't have to skulk, Steve. This is your home too now. For the foreseeable future, at least."

Future. It's a word that means more than Steve can say. He swallows past the tension in his throat, past the ache in his lungs, and nods. "You got it."

Tony's smile softens. He reaches out as though to pat Steve on the shoulder, letting his hand hover there for a moment. Then it falls to his side, a damning reminder of the gulf between them. "See you at breakfast."

Steve nods, throat going tight again. He doesn't trust himself to speak.

* * *

Breakfast is an uneasy affair. Vision and Rhodes both eye Steve from their seats at either end of the table. Conversation doesn't start to flow until Tony joins them, and it's only slightly stilted. Steve holds his tongue, cataloguing the differences he can already sense between this reality and his. He'd known intellectually that this would be a different world than his own, but knowing and experiencing are two different things. This experience is more than he had truly readied himself for.

But then, could anything he'd done really have readied himself for this?

Tony claps him on the shoulder, shaking him out of his reverie. "You planning on training this morning?"

"If you don't mind."

"Not at all. Thought I'd see if you want to go a few rounds."

"What, you and me?"

"That a problem?" There's a challenge in Tony's raised eyebrow.

"No, I just… I didn't think you'd want to after—" Steve cuts himself off, not wanting to remind Tony of what happened in Siberia.

Tony seems to understand regardless if his expression is any indication. "That wasn't you."

"In another lifetime it was."

Tony shakes his head. "But not for me, Steve. For another Tony in another timeline and another reality maybe, but not for me. For me, you're the man that stood at my side and kept me as safe as he could." His smile is small but genuine. "It would be an honor to learn from you."

Steve licks his lips, trying to find the words to respond. In the end all he can do is nod.

* * *

Sparring with Tony is not as novel an engagement as it might once have been, but it is one that Steve hasn't been able to indulge in for far too long. Between the Accords and Tony's time in space and Steve's inability to convince Tony to come back to the compound after… well, _after_ , they haven't been in the same place for long enough to spar in years. Those brief days after Scott had appeared had been devoted entirely to planning and then enacting the so-called Time Heist. Sparring wasn't high on anyone's list.

Which isn't to say Steve hadn't gone a few rounds with the punching bags over those few days. Whatever it took to keep his mind and his muscles sharp. Whatever it took to not fall apart in the middle of the mission. Whatever it took to keep him going. It wasn't enough, wasn't everything he wanted and needed, but it was something to hold onto and that was all he could do. All that mattered. All that there was.

Steve tries not to reach out too far as he and Tony spar. He holds himself in check the way he always does with a relatively untrained human. Tony takes him by surprise more than once, though, and by the end of their session there's a thin sheen of sweat on Steve's brow and a rising bruise on his tricep from one of Tony's well-aimed and well-timed hits. It's easy as anything to laugh with Tony as he bitches the whole way down from the ring. Tony's clearly much worse for wear than Steve himself, but he'd certainly held his own. Steve only just holds his tongue on an offer to go up against him in the suit next time. From the look in Tony's eyes as his lingering gaze meets Steve's head on, he's thinking the same thing.

Steve can't help but feel the intrusive cold of a bunker in Siberia standing between them and the possibilities their common ground holds.

Steve looks away first.

Tony sighs beside him. "I'm gonna go wash up. I'll catch you later."

"Right."

Tony lingers just long enough for Steve to start to wonder, then slips away to the showers to clean up before he heads off to whatever is next for him. Steve almost considers going after him, but holds off in the end. He's not brave enough to face his mistakes yet, not brave enough to embrace the reality and the potential that this new life has handed him. The time will come for all of that later, but the time sure as shit isn't now.

Steve lingers with the heavy bag, bruising his knuckles well enough before he makes his own way back down to the showers. Tony's long gone by then, and Steve fights down the thickness in his chest. No reason to whine about it now; he's the one that let Tony go.

The water can't get hot enough. The chill of memories has driven itself deep under his skin, and Steve shivers under the spray, his body unable or unwilling to get warm. It has him dreading leaving the showers to head back up to his quarters.

When he finally does drag himself out, his muscles won't stop twitching and tensing. It sets his teeth on edge, and there's nothing he can find to stop or calm it. He drags himself up to his room, to the memories of a time long gone that would have made this place his home. It isn't anymore, hasn't been since he left his timeline behind, and wasn't really his anymore then either, but there's something to be said for a place to come back to. And this, for now, is his place. He may not be ready to be what he wants to be for Tony, to give Tony what he so desperately wants in return, but it's a step in the right direction, and that has to count for something. Tony's there, on the edge of his reality, and that's all he can really ask for.

It isn't an easy thing to get back to rhythms and routines. Tony runs the business of the now severely diminished Avengers, and Steve can't fault him for steering clear. They still have breakfast together, though. The whole team in the kitchen at the heart of the compound. It's a cold comfort sometimes, but a comfort all the same.

Steve loses track of the days as he trains and follows Tony's directives, staying off the streets and out of the fights. It's small things at first, the UN testing the edges of their control over the Avengers. Steve finds himself wondering periodically if this is what it would have been like if he'd been brave enough to tell Tony the truth in his timeline. If he'd been brave enough to trust Tony and stand at his side. But this is as close as he'll ever get to knowing that, and that's all he can really ask for at this point. So he waits and he watches and, slowly, he learns.

* * *

Tony finds him about a month into his stay to ask. "Do you know what he wants?"

Steve looks at him out of the corner of his eye, not breaking form with the heavy bag. "I know what I wanted."

"But you're not him."

"Not precisely."

Tony sighs. "What did you want?"

Steve looks away, back at the bag before he answers. "For Bucky to be safe. And for you to fight the Accords."

"You wanted that?" The surprise is evident in Tony's voice.

"I thought I was in the right. I was a righteous bastard about it, but at the time I thought I was right."

"And now?"

Steve lands a hard punch that nearly knocks the bag off its moorings. He stares at his fist until he finds the strength to look up at Tony. "Now I understand that they had their place."

Tony's eyes go wide at Steve's words.

"They weren't perfect," Steve says before Tony can jump to any conclusions.

Tony waves the words off. "They were never going to be perfect on the first pass."

The easy way he says it settles Steve in his bones. They'd always been on the same side. They'd just said it in different ways. "But better to control the writing than let them control us."

Tony shrugs. "Something like that."

Steve turns back to the heavy bag, pressing his forehead against it. "God. If I'd just taken a minute and listened to you."

The heels of Tony's shoes clack as he crosses the room and puts a hand on Steve's shoulder. "You were too worried about Barnes."

Steve shakes his head. "That's no excuse. Running away, it cost me—" Steve stops before he can let the last word fall.

Tony tightens his grip on Steve's shoulder. "What, Steve? What did it cost you?"

Tony's closeness and warmth are enough to nearly overwhelm him. The sensation of want, of needing Tony so deeply isn't new, but the intensity is. It's too much. With a low sigh, Steve lets the heavy bag take his weight. "Everything, Tony. It cost me everything."

Tony's hand lingers on Steve's shoulder. He squeezes it once. "Alright. Well, if you ever want to talk about it."

Steve manages not to laugh. "Thanks, Tony."

Tony claps him on the shoulder again and makes his way out of the gym. Steve waits until he hears the door shut behind Tony, and then waits another minute past that. Then he goes right back to beating the shit out of the heavy bag. It's not as good as beating the shit out of the bad guys, but it's better than letting the pain sit in his chest all damn day.

* * *

Steve's restlessness grates on everyone's nerves. He tries to rein it in so that he's not a burden on Tony and the rest of them, but he's pretty sure he fails. He does his best to keep to himself, to keep to his corners and not get in anyone's way. It doesn't work all that well, but he tries.

"What do you need, Steve?" Tony asks him one morning when they're the last two at breakfast. "Do you need to go check on him?"

Steve frowns at Tony's question, mind still slightly foggy with sleep. "Check on who?"

"Barnes." Steve doesn't mean to scoff and roll his eyes. "Isn't that why you came back?"

Steve shakes his head. "I have bigger fish to fry this time around."

"Bigger than Barnes?"

Steve just shrugs, giving away no more than he can afford to.

Tony frowns. He doesn't say anything to that, but Steve can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. "I didn't think anything would ever be more important to you than him."

Steve turns away to stare down into his coffee. "Neither did I."

"So what changed?"

"Everything."

Tony's huff sounds impatient, even to Steve's ears. "You have to give me more than that, Steve. If you want me to help, you have to give me something to go on."

"It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, Tony. It's that I don't think there's much you can do to help. Money and genius can't fix everything," he adds before Tony can attest to his possession of either.

The corner of Tony's mouth tips up in a smirk. "Can't blame a guy for offering."

"No. No, I don't suppose I can."

The words and admission ache, a reminder of what Steve has given up to be here. What he'd lost that had made him so desperate in the first place.

Steve turns back to his food. "Thanks, though. For being willing."

Tony stays still for a long moment. "Yeah. Sure thing."

Steve isn't sure why the retreating sound of Tony's steps just sounds resigned, but it's all he can think of as Tony walks back out the door.

* * *

Steve sticks to small-time heroing. Little things that people won't take too seriously. He does little to conceal his identity; most people think him a fugitive of the law, and what fugitive would come back home when there are still battles to be fought? Cap is sure doing enough to garner the attention of the wider world, and Steve doesn't need the press.

Days turn to weeks turn to months and Steve moves like a ghost through them. The world goes on turning and Steve doesn't let himself interfere anymore than he has to. Instead he waits and watches.

Rhodes learns to walk with the new prosthetics Tony's made for him. Vision gets better at manipulating the Mind Stone. Tony gets married. That one's the hardest of all, Steve thinks, though he'd never admit it to Tony.

Steve doesn't attend the reception. Too conspicuous, they decide. But the wedding itself is a small affair, and Tony refuses to let Steve sit it out.

"Just because you're not my Steve doesn't mean I don't want you at my wedding. You've saved my ass more than once. You deserve to be there. I want you there."

Steve forces the smile. "Okay. If that's what you want."

That's all it's ever been about. What Tony wants. Steve only wants to give Tony the life he deserves, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone get in his way.


	5. Chapter 5

When Bruce comes hurtling back to Earth and crashlands in the Sanctum, Steve thinks he's ready. He's geared up and ready to go, jittery down to his bones even before Tony's call comes through.

"Do you know where he is?"

"Vision?"

"No, Happy. Of course Vision, Steve, who the hell else would I be talking about?"

Steve holds back a retort. "He's in Europe. Scotland, to be exact."

"Good. I need you to get Rhodey and the three of us—"

"There's no time."

"The hell are you—"

Steve hears it the instant Tony realizes this is bigger than them. Bigger than they can stop. Bigger than they can hold back right now. He swears under his breath and disconnects the call.

Steve's on site moments after Tony and the rest. There's something about seeing Ebony Maw in the flesh again with all the power he possesses that almost turns Steve's knees to jelly. This is the creature that stole Tony away from him. This is the creature that stole Peter away from Tony's arms.

Steve's going to have to give him a better show than he ever has before.

It's altogether too easy to fall into a rhythm with Tony and Strange. The shield has been his primary companion for the last two years and there's something about having it in his hands as he fights to win back his future that feels more powerful than anything else. He fights to win and he fights to take back what's his and if he can just protect Tony—

When the ship comes to take Strange away, Steve thinks he's ready. This time around he's here and Tony trusts him. This time around they'll be okay. This time around Tony will let him come along. What he's not ready for is for Tony to refuse him.

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean the lack of oxygen at that altitude will kill you if I don't get up there fast enough."

"You will, Tony. You will, just, god, please, Tony, you have to—"

"Do we lose?"

Steve's heart stills in his chest. "What?"

"Is that why you came back? Do we lose?"

Steve stares at Tony. The insight is just like him, tearing through to the heart of the problem in a way that Steve's never been able to understand or emulate. He swallows. Failing to tell Tony the truth hadn't done him much good two years ago. Why make the same mistake again? "Yes."

Tony stills in the suit. "You think you can change that?"

"It's why I'm here."

Tony stays motionless for precious seconds before he reaches out to wrap an arm around Steve's waist. "Don't let go."

Steve obeys without thought, and then they're off, chasing Peter and the ship and what might be Steve's last shot at saving Tony.

* * *

Steve can't be sure that any of this goes the way it had in his timeline. Tony had never volunteered the complete picture and Steve had never asked. But watching the Guardians, learning about what they have done, what they intend to do here and now, it's enough to give Steve a tiny sliver of hope.

Then Starlord lets himself be drawn in by Mantis' words and Thanos' false pain and that sliver of hope is shattered.

They're too slow and there's too little time to make the world become what it could be. What it should be. Tony's got a hole in his stomach, Thanos is on Earth ready to rip the Mind Stone from Vision's head, and there's nothing Steve can do about any of it.

He doesn't watch as everyone but Tony and Nebula turn to dust. He doesn't let himself begin to grieve. If he starts, he doesn't think he'll ever stop.

That doesn't mean he can ignore the words Peter speaks to Tony. The pain in his tone and the loss in his own heart. It isn't fair. He's just a boy. A child. No soldier at all. One more loss in Tony's life that he doesn't deserve. It's too much, all the pain and loss that they're mired in.

 _Get up._ Steve closes his eyes against the internal eternal drumbeat of his own resilience. _Get up right now or you never will. You'll lose Tony again if you stay here. Get up. **Get up**._

Steve plants a hand on his knee and levers himself to his feet. It makes him feel older than he is, older even than the external chronology of the world would demand him to be. There's no time to ponder, no time to slow down and reminisce. There is only time to get up and keep moving.

He forces himself over to Tony's side. "Come on," he says. "Let's get that stomach wound of yours looked at."

Tony's eyes are hollow when he looks up at Steve. "Was it like this last time?"

Steve tilts his head to the side.

"This much. All the loss. Everyone. Was it like this last time?"

Steve swallows. "Yes."

Tony closes his eyes. "How did you live through it?"

"Like a ghost."

Tony gives a wet laugh. Blood spills over his lips. "I can imagine."

"But you didn't."

Tony looks up at him, eyes wide and bright. "What?"

Steve forces a smile. "Come on. Let's get you home."

It's Nebula that brings up the issue of oxygen on the ship. Steve may not know numbers like Tony, but he knows Tony was half dead from injury and lack of oxygen when Carol finally brought him home. The thought sets his teeth on edge. It was close enough with two passengers, but with three?

"We're not all going to make it home."

Tony's breath catches with something more than pain. He doesn't say anything, but Steve can feel his attention locked onto Steve.

"You two barely made it back in my timeline, Tony. You put three of us on that ship and we're fucked."

Tony nods and sets his jaw. "Alright. I'm the one that's injured, we all know I probably won't make it home anyway. You two—"

"No, Tony. It has to be me."

"No, Steve. You came back to fix things. If we weren't enough to fix things in your timeline, how are we going to do it without you?"

Steve swallows. "No idea."

"Then why are you trying to stay behind? You can't take yourself off the playing field like this. There's got to be something. Something you have that makes this all different. Something that can change everything."

Steve opens his mouth to say _Nothing, there's nothing_ but then his mind stills, ticking over on something that might be enough, might be able to help them. It doesn't come immediately but in pieces, a thought, a vision, an idea. He lets the whole plan coalesce behind his eyes and sinks into the option. The possibility of something more.

"There might be something."

Tony looks up at him, eyes zeroing in on the set of Steve's jaw. It takes a moment but his mind seems to catch up with Steve the way he always has. "You have them on you?"

"Always do."

"And you think you can use them like that?"

"If you're not going to let me stay behind—"

"I'm not."

Steve smiles. It's just like Tony to be strong in these convictions. "Then I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Tony blinks. "No." A slow smirk spreads over his lips. "No, I don't suppose that you do."

Steve nods. "Then I guess we're doing this."

Tony and Nebula take the few hours they need to set up the Guardians' ship to their specifications while Steve manipulates the Reality Stone in an effort to turn the carbon dioxide in the air into oxygen. He can't be sure that it works the way he's intending, but at some point he gets an idle sort of high that might, he thinks, be all the oxygen that he's created. He can't be sure, but it's enough to make him confident enough that, when Tony asks, he agrees that they're ready to go.

Forward. All he can do is march forward.

* * *

They're a week in, Steve and Nebula's combined work on Tony's wound enough to keep him stable, when Nebula comes to him.

"You have the Stones."

Steve's been expecting this, but for her to be so succinct and cut right to the chase is a bit more than he was expecting, "I do."

"How?"

Steve contemplates giving her the runaround, considers only giving her what she needs to know to understand.

She deserves better.

"I'm from a parallel timeline."

Nebula tilts her head to the side. "Explain."

"I'm no scientist, not like Tony and the rest, but what it comes down to is that shit got worse before it got better, and I wasn't going to stand for that. So I'm here to make things better. To make the world become what it was meant to be. To protect the people that I love."

Nebula stares at him, black eyes huge and unblinking. Steve holds her gaze, uncertain of what she's looking for. He's willing to wait.

She nods. "I see."

It's fewer words than Steve was expecting, but enough to have him thinking that this is exactly what he was waiting for. He doesn't speak — there's nothing to say — but he lets the world settle around him. They have another long two weeks ahead of them, but they're going to make it.

They'll be fine.

* * *

Eighteen days in, Tony corners him quietly in his favorite space — the starport that lets him look out at the infinite vastness of space. He hadn't really gotten to enjoy it when they'd flown to Eden, and he can't deny that there’s something beautiful about it all. Beautiful and terrifying. He's scrubbed the carbon dioxide from the air three or four times, hesitant to do much more than that in case he makes things worse instead of better. He's stayed out of the way when Tony and Nebula were working on the ship, done whatever he could to make this less painful in the interim between now and when Carol shows up. If Steve hasn't broken things too much, they've only got a few more days, but if they're not careful they're going to end up worse off than they'd been even in Steve's timeline.

Tony finds him there one morning (afternoon? Time stopped meaning anything a long time ago) and stands beside him to look out over the vastness of space.

"I'm sorry."

Steve startles. "What?"

"For how much you lost. For letting you live through that alone all these years. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve all that."

Steve swallows. "It's not your fault."

"It's a little bit my fault."

Steve frowns. "How do you figure?"

"Well, you— _he_ left because of Ultron, right? Ultron and the Accords and—" _Bucky_ , he doesn't say.

Steve closes his eyes, the old pain nothing to the knowledge of what he's failed to prevent. "There's enough blame to go around, Tony. It didn't help us much last time around. But if you need my forgiveness, you have it. You’ve had it for years."

Tony stays still for just long enough that Steve wonders if they're done here. Steve turns to look back out over the stars, to parse the impossible vastness of space. Tony reaches out and runs a hand along Steve's arm, comforting and hesitant at the same time. "For what it's worth, you have mine too."

Steve nods. He doesn't let the tears come, doesn't want to sink into the relief it is to have Tony's forgiveness, honest and real instead of given in their darkest hour. It's another stark reminder that this isn't his Tony, who had never forgiven him, not really. He welcomes the relief regardless. "Thank you."

Tony squeezes his arm and turns to walk away. Steve stops him with a hand.

"Why haven't you asked?"

Tony blinks. His mind catches up with the unspoken words just like they always do. "Will it change anything if I know?"

"I mean. I guess not. But don't you want to?"

Tony's smile aches in Steve's bloodstream. "Could be different this time around, Cap. I don't know what would be worse — having the hope that she's alive and then finding out she isn't or knowing that she didn't survive in your timeline and I get to have her instead."

Steve can't find the words to reply. He nods once, an affirmation of the words that Tony has spoken. Then he turns back to the stars. The universe has been his truest companion since he lost Tony the first time, has brought him through time to this moment where they can speak somewhat openly about Pepper, about the rift that has cut them in two, and both of them can remain civil about it. It's more than Steve thinks he deserves, more than he ever got from his Tony to be sure, but it isn't enough. Not when there's still a chance — more than a chance — that this is going to go south in the end.

Four more days. Four days, and then they'll be alright. Or Tony will, at least. That's all that matters.

* * *

Carol comes in all her blazing glory, burning bright with more power than Steve can even begin to comprehend. The ride back to Earth after that is easier than their three weeks in space, easier than they maybe deserve. She tows them through the vastness of space, through the light years that separate Steve and Tony from their home. The landing when they do make it to earth is gentler than it has any right to be. Steve remembers watching the way she brought the ship in for a landing and being too busy worrying about Tony to notice her skill. Here, now, somewhat removed, it's easier to see the way she wields her powers with clear precision and ease. It seems impossibly more than Steve could have hoped to achieve with his own fumbling strength, but it brings him joy and relief to know that, should he fail in his self-appointed mission, she's there in his timeline to keep the world safe. And that if here, now, all he can do is protect Tony, then that will be enough.

Steve hangs back when they settle on Earth. Lets his other iteration sprint across the field — and, god, does he remember what that felt like, to want so desperately to make sure that Tony was alright, that he was safe and whole. He stands just behind Nebula, letting the ship keep him in shadow. His other half may not know that he was with Tony all this time, may take offense to what he's done, what he's chosen. But there's no way to know or account for any potential hostility that may come. All he can do is wait.

Just like he always has.

Tony looks over his shoulder at them, at Nebula, at _him_ , and Steve can't help the way his heart clenches at that. Tony doesn't deserve what the world has thrown at him and Steve doesn't deserve the boon that this has all been for him, but he wants so badly to have it. So he settles into his skin and lets Rocket take Nebula's hand, and stays out of the way.

Steve hangs back until everyone starts making their way inside the compound, waits until there's a lull in which he can slip away and prepare the med ward for Tony. He doesn't think he can listen to Tony's tirade turned on him again, but he thinks, with all that they have sustained together, all that they have survived, that he knows Tony well enough. Knows that his other self has all that and maybe more coming his way as soon as Tony can get a word in edgewise. As soon as the med room is set up, Steve settles on the bed, hands running over the taut bedsheets and sharp edges. There has to be something strong enough in his heart and soul to watch Tony go through this again, but if it's there Steve can't seem to find it.

They bring Tony down fifteen minutes after Steve has gotten the room in order. Tony's unconscious in his doppelganger's arms, and Steve doesn't let himself react when his double startles at his presence. He just steps in, lifting Tony easily from his arms and turning to the bed. Rhodes and Pepper make quick work of the bedsheets, and Steve lowers him into bed.

Tony's just as frail and small as he'd been in Steve's timeline, Steve's whole heart and body and soul tuned into the way Tony lies, vulnerable and helpless in bed. For all that Steve had saved them from the loss of oxygen, none of them had trusted Steve with the Reality Stone enough to try to create food to sustain them. Steve had tried not to eat more than his share, but Tony had always known him better than Steve gave him credit for and had given him more than he probably should have. Tony's lost more muscle mass than he had in Steve's timeline — Steve remembers those numbers well enough with the way they'd burned into his brain, eidetic memory notwithstanding. There's no way this was ever going to be anything but pain and suffering, but he can do it, he can do it, and there's so much still to do but there's no time. There's no time.

His other half has already called for another meeting. Steve knows he should be there, should be doing his part to keep this version of the universe safe from Thanos, but he can't make himself do it. Can't let himself take over the pain and ache and face the creature that had taken Tony from him the first dozen times. Can't leave Tony like this with no one there to protect him, even if there may not be anything left to protect him from.

So he stays just outside Tony's hospital room instead. He doesn't go inside, doesn't let himself lean into the want, doesn't let himself take the space that is Pepper's. There's so much more to do, to be done, and Steve can do most of it by himself.

He doesn't fire up Tony's computers on his way down to the workshop, but he does collect the supplies Tony will need should he decide to work on the time travel theory now. He doesn't think Tony will, thinks he'll carry the pain with him like a brand the way he always does, but the option needs to be there. For Steve's sake, if for nothing else.

Tony wakes in stages, coming around fully about sixteen hours into the away team's jaunt into deep space. He comes down to the lab, as though he'd known that Steve would be there waiting for him. "How'd I do it?"

Steve swallows. He hadn't really thought Tony would go for this, that he would take charge like this and become the person that they needed him to be at some point. He'd thought there would be enough holding him back — Pepper, his anger with Cap, his loss of body mass — and that he would walk away until there was nothing left to lose.

Until there was everything left to lose.

"How'd I do it?"

Steve swallows. "Do what?"

"Time travel. How'd I do it?"

"It had something to do with Scott Lang and Hank Pym's research."

Tony's eyes go wide. "Hank Pym?"

"You know him?"

"By reputation only. Quantum mechanics, huh?" Tony's eyes aren't quite dancing, but it's close enough. "Sounds like fun."


	6. Chapter 6

Steve waits in Tony's workshop through the away team's return, through the way the whole world shifts and turns the way it had done for him before. It's the same as it was then, just moved up by a few years. There's opportunity here, chance and possibility forming in a way that the world wouldn't have — _couldn't have_ — in his timeline. He settles into his skin, and before they're a day in, Tony's put Steve to work on the monitors, doing whatever little task Tony can come up with for him to do. Steve obeys every command, including the ones that come from Pepper to bring down the food she and Rhodes have made to keep Tony fuelded. Pepper may not understand the full depth and breadth of what Tony is feeling — Steve barely does, and he's done this before — but she knows better than anyone how to keep Tony moving when he's on an engineering binge.

It takes Tony the better part of ten days to find the solution. Steve doesn't ask why it has taken so much longer this time around than it had in his timeline — he knows the answer already.

Tony had already been working on time travel in his timeline even before Lang had showed up.

The thought rocks Steve to his core, to his foundation, to think of Tony alone in his timeline — alone save for Pepper, his constant sentinel and support — trying to save the world single handedly. It isn't enough for Steve to be here for him now, but it's something more than he could do for his Tony. It warms him from the inside out that he can do something — anything — to help.

When Tony does come up with it, when he finds their answer, the relief in his eyes is enough to have Steve's heart sinking. He wants so badly in this moment to tell Tony the truth, the cost of this plan, and make sure he is willing to pay it. He remembers so well Tony's words from so long ago — _and maybe not die trying_ — and he wants to tell him, but this isn't his decision to make. Isn't his hand to hold, his life to live. This is Tony's decision and Steve has to let him make it. If it comes down to it, Steve will just march his way across the battlefield and take the stones from Tony and use them in his stead. This is what he needs to do, what he will do, and there's nothing for it but to take Tony's place when the time comes. He can. He can and he will.

Finding the Pym particles falls to Steve. He remembers where Scott had been tied up, but things are still so chaotic that there's a chance none of that has happened yet. He goes instead to the rooftop where the van had been left, to the place where everything could have begun and could have ended. He phones Tony, who relays the only way to bring Lang back to reality, back to their hands and their options, their possibility, and then it's an easy thing to snag the Pym particles and let Tony start working his magic.

They work through the night for three days straight, pain and ache and want enough to make them stronger than ever. There's so much still to do, so much power and strength and change that they can use to their advantage, and Steve isn't going to let it stop them. They can do it. They can, and they will, dammit.

And they do. They find the way to make everything possible, to make the world — the universe — the _timeline_ theirs to command. Steve hears and feels the way the possibilities turn Tony's head, the power too much for him to want or have or fathom. Steve doesn't have the right to stand at Tony's side at this point, but he wants so badly to take a place there. Pepper stands there instead, encouraging Tony to take the leap that he can't — or won't — take alone. He will do whatever it takes to be what he needs to be for the universe, but only with Pepper at his side. There's so much still to do, so much to change, and Steve's heart aches for the future that's coming for them.

It's different, being on the team while they try to fathom out the best solution. He stays in the corners of the rooms, in the shadows, and lets them come to their own conclusions. They can do this, no problem, and everything will be just fine. Steve knows. He's seen it.

Well, maybe not just fine, but something kind of like it. Something close.

There's time to kill while Tony, Nat, and Bruce hash out the best way to use their limited Pym particles. It's while they're in the thick of that discussion that Cap corners him.

"You took him from me."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "You lost him yourself. Same as I did."

"You _took_ him from me."

Steve feels his eyes and face go hard. "You don't know me."

"I know you well enough. You're me, aren't you?"

The laugh that falls from Steve's lips is bitter and harsh. "I'm nothing like you."

Cap recoils like he's been slapped. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"I've lost more than you've ever had. You don't know what it is to live this life. To live the future you've condemned us both to. You have no idea."

"Then give me an idea."

Steve stops short. "What?"

"If you think what you've survived is so much worse, help me understand. You think you know so much? Share the wealth."

There's something in Cap's voice that gives Steve pause. There's layers upon layers of understanding Steve has that escape Cap. There's something just beyond his awareness, like everything would be different if he could just stop and understand.

But Steve's never been one for stopping. For slowing down. For being anything but completely alert to the present and understanding what's in front of him for better or for worse.

Steve closes his eyes. "I've already broken so much. I don't know if this will tip the scales the right way."

"So you'd leave me to your fate in turn?"

Steve's heart stops in his chest. It's a valid question, one that settles against his bones and aches in his soul. He wouldn't wish this life on anyone. He can't imagine anything else but this in front of him, anything but the gaping ache of a potential future without Tony at his side. Iif he could save this other version of himself from the same fate, maybe that would make it all worth it. Maybe he could go back to his timeline knowing that this version of Steve would still have Tony. Keeping secrets hadn't helped them two years ago; maybe it will help here and now.

There's more to this than he can say, more than is fair to dump on this Steve, but maybe he can give him something.

Something.

"What happened?"

"I lost him."

It takes Cap a moment to parse the words. When he does, the blood drains from his face. He doesn't balk, though. He sets his jaw and meets Steve's eyes head-on. "How do I keep him safe?"

Steve smiles, aching and empty. "What do you think I'm trying to do?"

Cap nods. "Then just tell me what you need. Tell me what to do."

"When everything goes south — and it will — I need you to stick close to Tony. Keep an eye on him. Protect him, no matter what he says or tries to do. Do that, and you just might make it out of this without losing what I did."

Cap nods. "Alright. I can do that much. Can't promise it'll be perfect, but I'll do every damn thing I can to keep him safe."

Steve's chest loosens, his heart relaxing in its tension and becoming exactly what Steve has spent the last three years hoping for. "Alright. Then that might be enough." If Cap can keep Tony safe, if Steve can get to the Infinity Stones first, then maybe. Maybe.

When they figure out how to get everyone through the time heist, to make everything work the way it's supposed to, Steve almost asks to go to Vormir instead. If he can give himself up instead of Nat, maybe this will all work out in their favor.

But he doesn't mean as much to Clint as Nat does, which might make it impossible for them to get the Soul Stone if he takes her place. If he took Clint's place instead, he doesn't think he'd be clever enough in that moment to keep Nat from her fate. He keeps his mouth shut. He can always take the Soul Stone back and save her just the same as before if he has to. He can do this. He can save them all. He has to.

So he goes to 2012 with Tony and Cap. Watches and waits as they try to find the best way to make this work out the way it's supposed to. Waits and listens for everything to go sideways in the tower, hauls Tony out of there before anything can happen, before Loki can get the Cube. He may be stealing a moment of reconciliation from Cap and Tony, but it's something he can do, a step in the right direction. There's little he can do to save them all, little he can do to make this timeline completely right itself, but if he can at least keep Tony _alive_ , the rest will follow.

So he hauls Tony out and they rendezvous with Bruce and when the world curls around over their shoulders and brings them home, Steve knows they're only going to be out one person.

"Where's Nat?"

Steve doesn't let Cap's aching loss rub off on him. There's still so much to do, so far to go, and they can't afford to stop here. Besides, they'll get her back.

They'll get them all back.

There's no time for argument about who will use the gauntlet Tony and Rocket put together, no time to make sure everything is going to work out. All they can do is let Thor take on the pain that Steve knows should never have been his to take on. They wait, breathless with hope as Thor lifts his hand and closes his eyes. Steve can only hope that the boon of having Loki at their side will make up for potentially losing out on Thor's might when things go south again. There's only so much they can do, but they will all do it unreservedly. Unabashedly. Unashamedly.

The Snap reverberates down Steve's spine. The Stones in his own pocket dimension respond in kind, trying to lend their power through the veil that separates them. Steve closes his eyes and breathes through it, refusing to let them be or have anything more. They've already stolen one Tony from existence. He won't let them have another.

The world crashes around them, and Steve feels his heart drop at the now-familiar sound of Thanos' ship smashing through the compound and into their timeline. It shouldn't be real, shouldn't be happening, should be so much more than it has been up until now, but all Steve can do is dive out of the way of the collapsing beams and reach for Mjolnir to call it to his side. It's no use to Thor with as pained as he is, and if Steve can wield it the way it's meant to be wielded, there's nothing for him to do but try. He has to stand tall and take whatever the world will give him, and he will. He will. He will.

He lets Mjolnir drag him through the debris, shield protecting him from the worst of the potential damage, and drags himself to the surface. He has to assess the damage. He has to take Thanos on. There's so much happening around them, but he'll take it all on to save Tony.

Anything to save Tony.

The battle rages around him, and the world breaks down to its core, everyone taking on the reality of their world torn asunder. Steve fights until his breath is short, until his muscles protest, until his bones creak. He fights past every limitation he's ever had or held, fighting without restraint. Tony and Cap find their way to him soon enough, and even Thor comes to make his mark on the battle, wielding Stormbreaker beautifully even with the damage to his arm. Bruce must have Hulked out at some point getting everyone to safety, and Steve honestly can't complain; they can use all the heavy hitters they can find at this moment.

He's glad to see that Cap is keeping an eye on Tony, sticking close to his side even when Pepper comes through in her suit and takes point on protecting him. There is time and space and power and distance between them all and there's only so much they can all do. But Steve will fight until the world tells him to stop, and then he will keep fighting even after all that. This is his life, his fight, and he won't let the universe take anything more from him.

He's fire and brimstone as he fights, wicked and desperate in every movement he takes, every swipe with Mjolnir, every blow he lands on one of the aliens. And through it all, he never lets his attention drift from Tony. If Cap can just keep Tony away from Thanos. If Cap can just keep Tony _safe_. If Steve can just fix this here and now, he will die happy.

So when he realizes that Cap has been distracted by Sam and Bucky, he knows there's something more to this than he can stop. Heart in his throat, he seeks out Thanos on the battlefield. He finds him, Tony a minute figure at his side, body burnt and broken and so close to gone.

Steve doesn't stop to take a breath. He just takes off at a sprint toward them. There's no time. There's no way he's going to make it, but if he doesn't at least try he's got no right to the star on his chest. There's a whole world of possibility in front of Tony, a whole lifetime of potential, and if Steve can get to him first, everything will change.

But he won't. He already knows that he won't.

Still. Still, he has to try.

It's been years since he watched Tony fall on his own sword. It hurts just as bad as it had the first time. Maybe worse, because he'd known it was coming and hadn't been able to stop it. At least Tony doesn't have to leave Morgan behind this time. At least Tony isn't leaving the kind of legacy that he'd always feared. At least this time Peter had had a whole minute to wrap his arms around Tony's shoulders and hold onto him. At least this time the world didn't suffer as much as it had for Steve. Not that that's better. It means the people may not understand the importance of what Tony's done.

Still. It's not enough. Tony deserves a long life, one filled with all the joy and potential and happiness that he'd given Steve over the years. There's nothing but an ache in Steve's chest as he watches Tony rush Thanos to steal the stones. He knows what's coming and for all that he wants to push himself a little faster, wants to skid to a stop and turn away so he doesn't have to watch, he can only keep moving forward. There's a yawning chasm of space between him and Tony, and he's not going to be able to span that distance in time. He's going to have to watch Tony die.

Again.

He doesn't stop running. He goes and goes and goes until there's nothing left to do but drop to his knees at Tony's side when he slumps to the ground.

"Tony."

Tony blinks his eyes open, turning to Steve through his pain. "Steve."

Steve reaches out, fingers trembling as he rests a hand over Tony's nanite chamber. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Tony frowns, his mind somehow working through the pain. He comes to the inevitable conclusion. "This is what you came back to stop. This is why you came. To protect us from Thanos."

There's no cause for secrecy anymore. "To protect you."

Tony's smile twists. "You know me better than that."

Steve laughs, but there's no joy in it. "Have you ever known me to do what you ask?"

"No. No, I don't suppose I have. But Steve, you don't have to do this. I chose this. I would choose it in any lifetime."

The words jar Steve. "What?"

"Go back to your timeline, Steve. Live your life. It's okay. I chose this. It's my role to play."

Steve shakes his head. "I don't accept that."

"Steve—"

Steve gets to his feet, reaching into the pocket dimension that holds the Stones. The ones he's used more in the last two weeks than he had in the two years previous. "No. There has to be a way. If not this, then another way. Another time." He closes his eyes, scanning through the multitude of realities that exist in the wider multiverse. He reaches for the one that was once his. He lets out a slow breath and opens his eyes again to meet Tony's. Tony's eyes go wide and his lips part on a word that Steve can't hear.

Steve smiles and drops his counterpart's shield. He can't have it where he's going. "It's going to be okay, Tony. I'll make sure of it."


	7. Chapter 7

He goes further back this time. Ultron. The rift in their lives that had been so much more than he could have known in that moment. The Stones take him to that moment, to the warmth and beauty and revelry of the Tower before everything had gone to shit. He stands at the entrance to the Tower, staring up at its magnificence.

"Captain Rogers."

Steve closes his eyes at JARVIS' voice. It's been too long. "Hello JARVIS."

Steve presses his palm to the scanner in front of him. It takes a moment longer than he remembers to admit him entry. Steve doesn't let the concern press against his skin. JARVIS was always more intelligent than even Tony gave him credit for. He must know. He must understand.

Steve makes his way through the foyer and over to the elevator that leads straight up to the penthouse. Another palm scan and a quick keycode is all it takes to get him moving up. When he makes it to the top, the party is not yet in full swing. He detours around the common room floor and heads up to Tony and Bruce's lab instead.

The program is running in the foreground. The one Tony had left to run in JARVIS' hands.

Steve slips in, eyes trying to make sense of the code running in pale dots across JARVIS' holoscreens. The lights flashing in the room around them. JARVIS' mainframe is there, present and whole, filling the room in a pale orange light alongside the blue of the Mind Stone.

"JARVIS."

"Captain Rogers, sir. Are you not with your guests?"

"They're, uh. They're not here yet."

"Then you should be getting dressed."

"I will. Just. Just give me a minute." Steve scans the screens. He knows that JARVIS can do three things at once, that he can talk to Steve and run his protocols in the background, but it doesn't mean he wants to have JARVIS' full attention focused on him. "Just give me a minute."

"As you wish, Captain."

Steve doesn't touch the holoscreens. There's too much of a chance that he'll make things worse instead of better. But there has to be a way. Something he could do to interrupt the process.

The smaller source of light catches out of the corner of his eye. Blue, instead of the yellow that he'd grown accustomed to. The Mind Stone. It leaves him sick, uncertain down to his bones, to see the Stone here, untethered, unattached, without Vision alongside it. It leaves him shaking and uncertain and—

The quality of the light in the room changes. Steve looks over his shoulder to see that the blue of the Mind Stone's, well, _mind_ is pulsing. The glow is more saturated, edging into navy instead of the cooler electric blue it had been before. His heart leaps. This is it. The moment everything changes. He just has to find a way to separate the Mind Stone from the computers, from the fabrication machines, just has to seek out the piece of the world that is his, that will save everyone. He just has to get the Stone away from the mainframe.

Of course.

Steve's across the room with a hand around the shaft of the staff before JARVIS can get the alarm bells ringing. He's not going to have much time to get out of here, so he has to use it wisely.

He slices his way through the blast doors that close on the lab. The combination of the Mind Stone, the staff, and the hint of the Reality Stone that he uses are enough to get him through the door unscathed. He moves wordlessly, silent and only slightly stealthy, keeping to the shadows as red lights flash and sirens blare around him. He hears JARVIS' frantic calling, the way he tries to reach out for someone — anyone — that can get to Steve in time. Steve makes it down fifteen flights of stairs before security catches up with him and he has to make a choice. The window or the guards. It's no choice at all. He ducks out of the stairwell and out onto the floor in question — one of the many R&D floors in the building — and takes off through the skeleton staff that resides there. He barrels his way to a window, blasting it with the staff before he puts his shoulder into it to dive through. His whole body shudders with the force of the collision. This is what he has to do to be safe, to keep Tony safe, and if he can just _get out_ —

He lands hard on the ground, shoulder aching with the force of the landing. This is what he came here to do, he just hadn't realized it would go down like this. That it would hurt this much.

Nothing hurts as much as what comes after. He hauls himself to his feet at that thought, strong enough to move with the want and hope and need in his chest. 

Tony's the one that finds him, suit wrapped around his form as he lifts his repulsors to blast Steve into nothing. This is what they are, what they need to do, and they'll fight it out if they have to. Steve just hopes they don't have to.

"Cap?"

Tony's voice is muted and metallic, strange and distant in a way that makes Steve ache. "Tony."

"What are you doing?"

"What I have to do."

"The fuck does that mean?"

"Like that ever mattered to you."

Tony pauses. "What, not going to call me out on my language?"

Steve smirks, tilting the point of the staff up a little higher in Tony's direction. If he can just get the angle right— "Figure I've heard worse from you already. Don't need to caution you against anything more at this point."

"That so?"

 _There_. It's an easy thing to shoot a beam of pure energy from the Stone, through the staff, rattling into the center of Tony's stomach. It sends him tumbling to the ground, free falling as Steve turns on his heel and darts into the shadows. Anything to get away. Anything to make this work. To make this safe. He just has to keep Tony safe. That's all. That's all.

Clint comes after him next, arrows embedding in the ground at his feet. Steve's never been more grateful for Clint's historical unwillingness to risk death when injury or even distraction would suffice. It's enough to have him picking up his pace and ducking, darting, hiding in the corners and nooks and crannies of the streets that keep him hidden from his teammates. Former teammates. He'll do whatever it takes to make the world theirs. His. Tony's.

He's not sure he knows the difference at this point.

Bruce is next. Steve doesn't want to use the Stone against him, but there's little choice when the options are that or letting himself be crushed between the Hulk's palms. There's so much here, so much pain and distress, suffering and ache, and if he can just get out of range then maybe— maybe—

Thor and Nat and Hill and there's no way Steve is going to be able to keep this up much longer. He has to find a way to ditch the Stone, find a way to get it somewhere safe. Asgard. If he can just get the Stone to Asgard then maybe everything will be alright. But Thor's probably not interested in helping, Loki's nowhere to be found, there's nothing Steve can do but run through the streets of New York to try to keep the people he loves safe from the fate this rift will condemn them to.

He just has to hold them off long enough.

He should have known Tony wouldn't let him do that. Should have known that Tony would find him and trap him in his eyes, in his arms. It's a blast from Nat's Widow Bites, an arrow to his gut, and then Tony, blessed Tony, reaching out for him and tackling him to the ground. There's so much still to do, and Steve has to keep the Mind Stone safe. If he can't—

"Steve, what the _fuck_?"

Steve tries to throw Tony off of him, but he doesn't have the strength to do that, doesn't have the leverage or the power. All he can do is curl his body around the scepter and ignore the way the blade is cutting into his chest, trying to drag him apart at the seams. If he can just get Tony safe this will all be okay. The injuries he sustains are nothing to the pain he'll have to face if there's no Tony in the world when he wakes.

"Steve, what are you doing?"

Steve closes his eyes and doesn't answer.

"Give me the fucking staff, Steve. What the hell are you doing bringing it out this far?"

"Gotta keep you safe."

"From what? What the fuck?"

"Tony." That's Nat. "Let him up."

"The fuck, Romanoff? I'm not letting him up when he just tried to break the most dangerous piece of tech from the Battle of New York out of the Tower. I can't afford to let him be anything but completely secure."

"Sure you can."

"Romanoff—" Tony shifts above him but cuts himself off after that word. Steve waits, tense and uncertain as he listens to what's going on above him. He just has to listen. He just has to pay enough attention that he can find the moment he can escape. When Tony's voice comes again, it's at a whisper. "What the fuck?"

A new voice cuts through the tense air. "Let him up."

The bottom drops out of Steve's stomach. He has to breathe if he's going to make it out of this, has to swallow down the guilt and pain and fear if he's going to be okay. Because that's the one voice that can fuck up everything for them.

That's his own voice.

Tony's repulsors fire up, and Steve can feel one pressed against the back of his neck while the other hums somewhere above him and to the left. "What the _fuck_?"

"Easy, Tony," Cap says. "Take it easy."

"The fuck I will! There's two of you, Cap. What am I supposed to do, just stand here and be okay that there's someone that looks just like you? How am I supposed to trust that either of you is who you say you are?"

"I'm Steve," Cap says, "and we need to figure out how someone wound up with a good enough copy of my face and palm print that it was able to break into the Tower."

"It would have had to fool JARVIS," Tony concedes, and Steve can hear the way his whole heart is trying to break in his chest. "I'll have to look into his code. See where the flaw is."

Steve can't stop the harsh laugh that falls from his lips. Tony presses down a little harder on his neck, a warning that Steve doesn't heed. "I just _saved_ JARVIS, and you think he's flawed?" He shakes his head. "You should be so lucky."

There's a pause, a moment of silence that presses down on Steve's lungs. "What are you talking about?"

"That protocol you ran? It was going to work."

"Protocol?" There's a question in Cap's voice that has Steve laughing before he continues.

"Yeah. He'll tell you all about it, but in the meantime he just needs to know that it would have worked. And it would have cost him more than he can possibly imagine."

There's a moment of stillness where Steve thinks Tony's going to let him go, going to let all this pass. Then he flips Steve onto his back, repulsor now pressed against his trachea, pressing down just enough to make a promise of his touch. "What do you mean?"

"That program would have worked, Tony, but not the way you and Bruce thought it would. It's too strong. Too powerful. It's a damn Infinity Stone. Those things aren't to be tangled with. We're in enough deep shit right now with two of them on Earth, the last thing we need is to draw attention to ourselves by weaponizing another one."

Thor's the one that pulls Steve from Tony's grip, hauling him to his feet and lifting him in the air. "Two Infinity Stones? The Tesseract is on Asgard, what is the other stone you speak of?"

"The Time Stone. It's here, on earth, and if we're not careful we're going to get our asses handed to us in a few short years."

Thor shakes him. "Where?"

"Wrong question."

"Then who?"

Steve smirks through the ache in his throat. "Can't tell."

Thor scoffs and drops Steve, who overbalances and falls to the ground on his ass. There's a split second where he thinks he might be able to make a break for it, but then the Avengers close ranks around him, keeping him trapped unless he wants to take Clint or Natasha out. Frankly, he thinks he might have a better shot at taking Thor out presuming he's still worthy of wielding Mjolnir. Regardless of who he tries to beat, though, he's unlikely to make it much further than the end of the alleyway before the rest catch up to him and take him down in earnest.

Instead he looks up at those assembled and tries to determine his best course of action. Bruce is still green around the gills or Steve would start by trying to convince him. Bruce had been more remorseful about how things had gone with Ultron from the start. Not that any of them could have known what would have happened there. There's no way they could have been prepared. None. Tony couldn't have seen it coming. None of them could have. Ultron was one of those things that just had to happen. A taste of humility they didn't heed.

But Bruce is still coming down from the rage, and Steve won't be able to get to him. Clint doesn't have the pull with the rest, still a funny guy rather than the powerhouse they will learn that he could be. This Natasha won't believe him, still too wary of anyone and everyone. Thor is trusting, but still raw from his brother's betrayal. Coming at him and stealing the very same staff that his brother used in the last act of said betrayal might be enough to sour him on Steve. His other self won't be much better, too protective of the team to let anyone come close to taking them away. Too close to taking away the team that is his and has been for as long as he's been out of the ice.

Tony, then. Tony's his best shot. Just like he's always been.

"You don't have to believe me. But I swear to you, this was the only way to save JARVIS with the time I had."

Tony's face twists. "Don't talk to me about JARVIS. He's been nonresponsive for the last five minutes since you broke his connection to the mainframe.

Steve's stomach drops. All thought of playing this safe fly out the window. He scrambles to his feet, barreling through the wall the Avengers form around him. He only just has the presence of mind to turn to them to shout at Tony. "Cut off the Tower from the outside world. We have to keep the threat contained."

Tony reels back, the suit somehow accentuating the motion. "Threat?"

Steve gives him just the hint of a smile that he knows will get Tony to understand. Then he turns and runs all out toward the Tower. There's a split second where he thinks the rest of the Avengers might not follow Tony's lead in letting him go, and in the end it's a very near thing. But they seem trusting enough to follow him all the way to the Tower, feet pounding the pavement behind him. Steve makes it back first, a hint of the Reality Stone allowing him to push his limbs beyond their limitations.

When he makes it through the front door, his first instinct is to head back up to the lab itself, see what he can parse through JARVIS' code. But he's not Tony, and Tony knows there's a threat now. Let him go to the lab, let him try to keep them all safe from Ultron's code. Steve needs to go for the heart of the problem. Ultron's physical body.

The fabrication lab isn't moving at full speed, as if it's trying to resist the malicious code. Steve doesn't let himself think about what that might mean, doesn't let himself contemplate the potential for resistance. There's a whole world between them, a whole gamut of options. He just needs to get the fabrication bots slowed down enough that Tony can get into the code.

"Alright, imposter." Steve should have expected his other self to make chase and catch up with him by the time he made it to the Tower. "What's your game?"

"Ask Tony," Steve says, eyes already searching out the weak points in the fabrication bots. "Or better yet, set up a perimeter around the building until Tony's sure he's got the bots and the mainframe scrubbed."

Cap huffs, but doesn't throw his shield. It's a small blessing, and likely one Steve only garnered by being in the fabrication lab. Anywhere else Cap would have just chucked the shield at him, consequences be damned. But here, in Tony's inner sanctum, he'd never dare risk the kind of damage he knows the shield can create. There's no way he'd risk disrupting the bots' work on the off chance that it meant something more to Tony than he'd let on.

Hah. If only he knew.

Cap does move closer to him, though, caution clear in his every step. "JARVIS trusts you. He wouldn't have let you inside earlier otherwise. But you said he was in danger. What's going on? What do you intend to do here?"

There. Steve's found the weakest point in the closest fabrication bot. He ignores Cap's questions and launches himself across the in-motion bots to take out the hinge on the nearest one. The bot turns on a dime, claw coming up to interfere, but Steve just catches his body weight on the claw and uses his momentum to swing underneath it and slam his feet into the hinge. The bot twists and creaks, but doesn't break. Steve snarls and swings his weight back again before kicking at the weak point with the power of momentum on his side. The bot shudders, and for a split second Steve fears there's nothing more he can do. Then, with an almighty crash, the bot bends, breaks, and falls to the ground.

Echoes of the crash resonate through the room. Steve holds his breath, unsure what to expect next. He doesn't move, not wanting to risk catching the other bots' attention too soon. If he can just time this all right—

"What the hell are you doing?"

Steve winces at the sound of Cap's voice. Well, no point in subtlety, then. Might as well get right to smashing his way through the remaining fabrication bots. He turns on his heel and ducks under the bot that's trying to take him out at the neck. There's a frenzy in the way the bots are moving now, as though something's changed in their programming. From the easy, careful way they'd moved before to the panic of a cornered animal.

Certainty settles in Steve's bones. He has no time to waste and nothing left to lose at this point. He just needs to take the rest of the bots out too and keep them safe from whatever is coming their way. From Ultron.

Another fabrication bot goes down in one go, though not without clipping Steve's shoulder with a wayward claw. Steve falls to his knees, winded, before he scrambles back to his feet just in time to catch the shield that Cap had flung his way. "Thanks," he gasps out, before charting the best trajectory to set the shield flying around the room. He cocks his arm back, seeing Cap moving his way full-tilt, and lets the shield fly just before Tony's words resonate through the fabrication room.

"Take the bots out, Steve. It's going to take me a minute to override this programming, and I don't want those bots pulling any funny business in there. Just take them out."

Even knowing the words aren't for him, Steve lets the shield fly, cutting off two of the fabrication bots at their hinges. Metal screeches in his ears, vibrating down to his bones. He flinches, heart in his throat, and turns to look up at Tony in the workshop above them. Tony isn't looking at him, too busy with his fingers flying over holographic keyboards as he tries to reverse the damage Ultron has already done. His lips are pursed, his face grim, and there's pain in the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. Steve swallows down the fear that JARVIS is already gone. He's not the one that can make a difference in that arena at this point, that's all Tony. What Steve can do is prevent Ultron from getting any further into the mainframe or creating any more bodies that it might use to escape.

"I've isolated these six floors and purged the code from every other level," Tony says, "but that's not enough. We need to narrow our range."

"I know, I know," Bruce says, his voice sharp and bright. "Just keep working on the isolation, I can purge it once it's in our systems."

"And JARVIS?" Tony asks. There's a tremble in his voice.

Bruce is apologetic when he speaks. "Still trying to find him."

Tony doesn't reply. His expression tightens and fingers go on flying across the keys. There's no time, no space to breathe through this, and they're going to have to talk about this later on.

In the moment, though, all Steve can do is turn his attention back to the fabrication bot that's coming for him, lifting the shield to deflect the blow. He swears under his breath, heart in his throat, and dives back into battle.

He bobs and weaves through the room, the remaining bots swinging at him in an attempt to slow him down.

"Shield!" Cap calls, and Steve doesn't have to think. He turns and tosses the shield at his counterpart. The second the shield leaves his hand he wonders if it was the right call, if it's going to come back to kick his ass later on. There's no time to wonder or worry, though. He ducks and rolls as an aggressive fabrication bot swipes at him. In seconds he's embroiled in battle again, the bots getting more and more desperate as Tony continues to narrow the scope of the program's reach. There's no time to stop and think, barely any time to listen to what Tony and Bruce are saying over the comms, and there's nothing to be done but keep the bots from building, keep them from reaching their goals.

Steve fights until he's winded, until his muscles are screaming, until he can't see straight anymore. There's a split second where he thinks he might not make it through this. He has to, though. So he does.

Steve doesn't relax when the bots all power down simultaneously. It could be a ploy, a half-assed attempt at pretending to be weaker than they are. Steve waits, the sound of his breath and his counterpart's enough to have him on edge. There's no time to relax; if Ultron hasn't been contained, there's no time to wait.

Cap kicks at a severed fabrication bot arm, tension in the line of his spine. "Is that it?"

There's no sound from the booth, and Steve's heart goes tight in his chest when he looks up at where Tony and Bruce are both typing furiously. "Tony must have isolated Ultron's programming to the booth. If they can just get everything in order, then yes, that'll be it."

Cap's jaw goes tight. "So what. We just wait?"

"That's all we can do right now." The words are weighty on his tongue, but it’s enough to make it clear that they're both equally frustrated with the situation.

Tony jerks away from one of the keyboards, rubbing his hands and wincing. He turns to Bruce, and Steve can see his lips moving, can see the edge of green at Bruce's throat as he holds back his rage. It takes all his willpower to hold back from busting through the reinforced glass at their feet to break into the lab to help. But he'd be no help at all, would he? Just another body in the way, another person for them to worry about. He would be no help at all.

Steve hears Cap shift behind him. He turns to look at his counterpart and sees the way his arm is drawn back, ready to send the shield flying into the reinforced glass at Tony and Bruce's feet. Steve takes the split second necessary to calculate the trajectory before he takes a running jump and throws himself into the path of the shield, pulling it to him and strapping it onto his arm.

Cap glares at him from across the room. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"They're working on it. If we bust through the glass, there's a chance Ultron could use the radio waves down here to break out."

"How do you know that?"

"Weren't you listening? Tony cut off all electromagnetic waves into and out of the Tower to keep it trapped here, cut off all internet access. There's no way it's getting out unless Tony lets it out."

Cap stares at him, eyes clear and piercing. Steve himself is surprised by the words that slipped from his lips, by the certainty in his tone. Maybe three years in the compound with Tony had done more to adjust his thinking than he'd thought.

"We have to trust them. That's all we can do."

As they watch, Tony turns back to his keyboards, fingers flying over them as he works to protect them from Ultron. From the damnation he's created. Steve tries to read Tony's lips but they're moving so fast, the tremble in Tony's hands matching the tremble in his lips, and there's so much more to do that Steve is no help right now. He has to stand and wait and watch.

Cap crosses the fabrication room to stand at Steve's side. "I should probably go help with the perimeter."

Steve grunts. He doesn't take his eyes off of Tony. If they can't fix this, where does that leave him? How screwed are they if he doesn't stop Ultron from taking what it took in his timeline? There are more important things than a perimeter, more important things than keeping the few civilians that have gathered outside safe. There's trillions— _quadrillions_ of lives to be saved in this moment, and Steve can't let that be forgotten. There's no time for them to wait. They have to face this head-on if they're going to make it through.

Cap doesn't press. He just pats Steve awkwardly on the back and makes his way out of the now-unlocked fabrication room.

Tony's face goes tense as he works. Steve can't tell what it is that he's responding to, the code or Cap leaving the room or something else altogether, but whatever it is has his fingers flying even faster over the keys and his crow's feet deepening. There's so much in that expression, a whole existence that Steve only partially understands, and if he's going to keep Tony safe he can't afford not to watch every little permutation of his features. He's here to protect Tony, to keep him safe and make him all that he was ever meant to be, and he can only do that if Tony trusts him. So he'll stand here, feet planted on the ground, and watch as Tony works to save them all.

Tony's fingers twitch and start against the keys, and Steve hates the worry that fills his chest at that. What is Ultron doing in there? There's no way he's going down without a fight with how long Bruce and Tony have been working up there. Steve just has to stand there, heartbroken and useless and _waiting_. Seconds turn to minutes, and Steve can't ignore the way the blood is pounding in his ears as he watches. The fear is trying to choke him, Tony's impossible to read lips dragging him out of his depth as he waits and hopes and watches. There's a vague ringing in his ears that could be the silence or could be the frequency Ultron's operating on. Whatever it is that has him so on edge is enough to have him bouncing on the balls of his feet, impatience leaving him desperate.

When Tony pulls back from his keyboard, Steve's heart leaps. For a split second, he thinks that's that. That Tony's gotten rid of the remnants of Ultron. Then Tony's grabbing a StarkPad and connecting it to one of the few physical servers in the room. From his position down below, Steve can see the code running along the StarkPad's screen, but he can't see Tony's expression. His heart leaps into his throat, body trembling with the need to understand what's going on, what Tony's doing, what he needs help with. He can't do much from down here, but maybe he can at least do something.

Tony rips the cable from the StarkPad and moves to the center of the room, fingers flying over the screen. All at once Steve understands what's going on. Tony's trying to save the remnants of the Ultron program and improve it, bend it to his will. Steve grits his teeth at that, trying to run the odds in his head. If Tony can get Ultron under control would that be enough to hold Thanos off? Enough to get them through the endgame unscathed?

Maybe. A suit of armor around the world might have been enough once, but enough to counteract the Space Stone? Probably not. And even if it is enough, is it worth the cost to the team? To the world?

Steve aims the shield carefully. When it clangs against the metal girders at the base of the floor to the booth, Tony startles, almost dropping the StarkPad. He meets Steve's eyes, searching and wondering, and there's a moment where Steve thinks there's more to be done, more that he needs to do to convince Tony of the reality of what's just happened.

Then Tony's eyes go wide and he turns to Bruce, whose lips thin and he nods once, sharp and certain. The pair of them duck out of the booth, and Steve takes off at a run, trying to catch up to wherever they're going.

"JARVIS," he says, hoping against hope that he's done enough to save at least the AI, "where are they going?"

The voice that answers his is more stuttering than Steve remembers, more uncertain, but it's definitely JARVIS. "Video feeds indicate that they are heading to one of the training rooms."

Steve doesn't close his eyes in relief, but it's a near thing. "Thanks, JARVIS. Good to hear you."

"Thank you, Captain. It's good to be heard."

Steve lets himself smile at that, ten year-old memories of comfort and belonging surging up to fill his soul. He nods once, hoping JARVIS can see him, and knowing that he can't say or do more than that right now if he wants to make it to Tony and Bruce.

The blast door to the training room is closed. Steve slams a fist against it, hoping the reverberation will get Tony and Bruce's attention. His eyes catch on the word flashing on the keypad to the right of the door and his heart stops.

_Lullaby_

Steve rushes to the nearby arsenal and grabs a set of comms, shoving them in his ear. "Nat, we need you in training room H37. It's lullaby time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the missed update. My brain was being a jerk. Hopefully you enjoy this new chapter!!


	8. Chapter 8

There's a moment of silence before the comms crackle to life and Nat replies. "Cap?"

"Kind of. Just get up here."

Nat doesn't reply right away. Steve can practically hear her thinking.

Then another voice comes over the comms. A younger version of his own. "Go, Romanoff. I think he knows what he's saying."

"On it, Cap."

Steve turns to the blast doors again, feeling helpless. He closes his eyes, trying to reach through them to hear what's going on inside, but he can't make out much of anything through the thick steel. He clenches and unclenches his fist, trying to convince himself that there's enough here, enough time and space and patience and desperation to make it through in one piece. Tony's going to be okay. So is Bruce. If Nat just gets here in time, everything's going to be alright.

Nat's all steely professionalism as she stalks down the hallway toward them. She keys in her code to the training room and steps in. Steve almost follows, but thinks better of it just in time. Better to let Nat do her thing and then follow her in.

When the Hulk's shouts and grunts soften to Bruce's quieter sounds, Steve waits a moment longer before he makes his way inside. Nat has one of Bruce's arms flung over her shoulder while Tony kneels in the middle of the room, surrounded by what could be shrapnel but is most likely the remains of the StarkPad he'd had in his hands just minutes before. Nat starts to lead Bruce out, but stops short when she sees Steve. She searches his eyes for a moment. She must find whatever she's looking for, because she nods once and goes back to leading Bruce out of the training room. Steve isn't at all sure what to make of that.

Instead of lingering to ponder, he steps fully into the room and makes his way to Tony's side. He's not sure what Tony needs right now, but he's going to do whatever it takes.

Steve hesitates for a moment, uncertain whether Tony wants Steve to be on his level or just to leave him alone.

Tony speaks before he can make his decision. "I thought I was helping."

Steve's heart lurches. There's so much in those five words that Steve had always wondered but never known. They're Tony down to his core and something in Steve's chest shifts at the bone-deep understanding that Tony only ever wanted to help. "I know you did."

The suit folds away, peeling its way off of Tony's body to stand sentinel in the corner of the room. Tony looks up at him, vulnerable in that way he'd been the first time they'd had this conversation so many years ago. "I just wanted everyone to be safe."

"I know that too."

"Then why stop me? Why hold me back?"

Steve searches Tony's eyes, trying to decide just how much truth he needs to tell. How much he wants to tell. "Because it cost us too much."

"What did it cost us?"

Steve doesn't close his eyes, no matter how much he's afraid of meeting Tony's when he speaks. "It cost us our trust."

Tony tilts his head, understanding in an instant. "You and me."

Steve nods.

Tony waits a moment, mind going a mile a minute. "And that's important to you?"

Steve hadn't thought Tony could surprise him any more tonight. He should have known better. Tony's never played by anyone's rules but his own. "Always."

Tony meets his eyes for a moment longer before he nods. "Alright, then."

Steve's breath stutters in his chest. "Tony—"

"You wouldn't have done this without a reason. I know that well enough. Even if you're not Steve, you saved JARVIS, that much is obvious from even a basic scan of the AI's programming. It was altogether too hostile to mean anything else. So I owe you for keeping JARVIS safe, at least."

"He's always been more than just an AI to you, Tony. I couldn't have let you lose him. Not again."

Tony gets slowly to his feet. His eyes drag along Steve's form, something thoughtful in the expression. "What's your story?"

"My story?"

"Where are you from? Why are you here? What's your deal?"

Steve searches Tony's eyes, trying to parse the question he's asking. "How much do you want to know?"

"Want to know? All of it. Need to know?" Tony shrugs. "Whatever you think I do."

Steve's heart catches again. "Alright. Let's walk."

Tony tilts his head before he slips up to Steve's side. For a second, Steve considers slinging an arm over Tony's shoulder and pulling him in close just to smell the sweat on Tony's skin and feel Tony's breath on his shoulder. He resists the impulse.

"How much do you know about that staff?"

"Only what the scans told me."

Steve nods. "That stone in the rod, there's a lot more to that than you know. You remember what Thor said way back when about a higher form of war? That's what the Tesseract was for and that's what the stone was capable of. There are four other stones, each with their own properties. For all that we can do, we can't do what these Stones can."

"They’re powerful?"

"More than I can explain. You always understood better than I did."

Tony hums and glances around the hall. Steve isn't sure whether or not Tony's avoiding his eyes or just trying to gather the information he needs to make an informed decision. "That so?"

Steve nods. "There's so much more to this that I could tell you, but there's only so much I'm certain that I can share."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that there are too many variables to account for to keep the world in motion the way I want it to move. I can't be certain that the world is moving the way it's supposed to. I only have one shot at this particular time around. I need to make sure I don't make any changes that will move this in the wrong direction."

"And you know the outcome if that changes?"

"I know enough."

Tony nods. "I can accept that. Then let's do what we need to do to get this shit moving." They make their way toward the end of the hall, moving slowly toward the exit.

Tony speaks when they're halfway down the hall. His voice is small and aching, and Steve's heart seizes at the sound. "Was it really that bad?"

Steve frowns through his concern. "Was what that bad?"

"Ultron. Did things go that badly?"

Steve chooses his words carefully. "It was too young, too narrow, too childish. It wasn't capable of what you wanted it to do. But even with all that, Tony, you were doing what you could. What you thought was right. You couldn't have known. There's a world ahead of you, around you, you just need to understand the cost of failing to meet that expectation." Steve lets himself smile at Tony, though it feels brittle on his face. "You have to understand, not everyone's a born genius like you."

Tony laughs. The sound aches and leaves Steve unsteady on his feet. "Not sure I'm that much of a genius, Steve, but I'll take your word for it."

Steve pulls Tony closer under his arm before he can think better of it. "You are, Tony. More than you've ever let yourself believe."

"You know better than most that I'm happy to parade my genius around for the whole world to see. That's no secret."

"The world believes it, yes. But sometimes I don't think you really do."

Tony's fingers twitch against Steve's side. Steve resists the urge to lean into the touch. "Maybe," Tony murmurs.

Steve doesn't close his eyes at the ache Tony's tone leaves in his chest. He wants to block out all of the pain he knows Tony has suffered, but he also knows it's what's made Tony who he is. The man that Steve would tear the universe apart to save. There's something to be said for all of this, for the world Tony creates, but there's only so much Tony can do. What he can't do, Steve will stand at his side and do for him. It's the least Tony deserves.

* * *

The common room isn't in utter disarray when they make their way back, but it's a very near thing. Bruce's body is a study in tension, his spine rigid and his jaw tense. Thor looks positively livid, and it's all Steve can do not to jump to Bruce's defense. In the end, though, Thor doesn't turn to Bruce with his anger. He turns to Steve and Tony instead.

"Did you intend to tell us, Stark?"

Tony tenses under Steve's arm. Steve tightens his grip in Tony's shoulder and schools his expression. Tony speaks as though he can feel Steve's conviction. "If it had worked."

Thor marches across the room, intent in his stride. Steve knows this game, though, and steps between the two of them. Thor stops short, his face twisting. "You would stand between me and my right to pass judgment?"

"Only because I know what you're thinking, and I can't let you do it."

Thor snarls and starts to step around Steve, but Steve stays between him and Tony, eyes sharp on Thor's. Thor glares down at him, turning to look over his shoulder at Cap. "A hand if you would, Captain?"

Steve looks over to see his doppelganger faux-lounging against one of the toppled couches. When he speaks, Steve knows the words are for him. "What's your game?"

Steve tenses. "Does it matter?"

"It does if you want our help."

Steve grits his teeth against the truth of those words. "I'm playing the long game," he allows. "Long enough to keep the people that matter to me safe."

Cap's brow furrows. "You think keeping the truth from us will keep us safe?"

"I think everyone in this room is doing the best they can, and that hearing Tony out without condemning him isn't a bad thing."

Cap tilts his head to the side, considering. He shifts his gaze to Tony. "Go on, then."

Steve doesn't look over his shoulder at Tony, but he can hear the confusion and wonder in Tony's voice when he speaks. "There's only so much we can do to keep this planet safe. We need more protection, more help if we're going to keep everyone safe. Ultron was supposed to be that."

"Ultron." Cap's voice is skeptical.

"Yes. A program designed to determine potential threats to the world and stop them before they escalate. A literal suit of armor around the world. A first line of defense to protect us from the invaders Loki brought to our door last time. There's only so much we can do."

Steve can see the furrow in his doppelganger's face that Tony's responding to. "You didn't tell us."

Tony wilts a little beside Steve. Steve holds his tongue by force of will alone. "No," Tony concedes.

"Whatever we need to face, we'll face it together. Us. This team."

Tony takes half a step toward Cap. Steve can see Tony's expression perfectly in his memory and it pulls something taut in his chest. "We'll lose."

Steve closes his eyes, knowing the words that will come even before they do.

"Then we'll do that together too."

Steve's jaw twitches. He can feel it. The room is silent around him, and he knows he's been caught out.

"Problem, Captain?" Cap asks.

"So many." Steve's voice is brittle. "But none that I can share at the moment." He opens his eyes and turns to Tony. "Mind if I crash here tonight?"

Tony startles. "Not at all. But Steve—"

"Not right now. I'll let you all hash out what you need to. I'll be here to deal with the rest in the morning. Guest floor?" he asks Tony.

Tony nods silently, his eyes still wide and confused. Steve tries not to let it get to him and mostly succeeds. Steve swallows down the hurt in his chest at the expression. How long has it been since Tony looked at him like that? He's spent the last three years being someone Tony trusted at his side, and now he's back to square one. Or worse, maybe, because he's not even certain that this Tony believes that he is who he says he is. It stings, but Steve's too tired to face that tonight. He needs a shower, a solid night's rest, and a reason to get up in the morning. He has one of the three, and the other two will be easy enough to attain. He just needs to get out of the group and up to somewhere private.

It's been years since he lost Tony the first time, but all Steve wants right now is to hang onto the moments he has. Just so he has a reason to hold this world together in his hands and become the person he needs to be to save Tony. To keep him alive. To let him live his life to the fullest. It's all he can do, all he wants to do, but he's not going to manage it tonight. He still has too much to do.

* * *

Cap beats Steve to the kitchen the next morning. Steve doesn't wait to be acknowledged. He just makes his way over to the coffeepot and pours himself a mug.

"That's a bit presumptuous, don't you think?" Cap asks.

Steve rolls his eyes before turning around to where he can meet his double's eyes head-on. "I'm a guest in Tony's home. You really want to sit there and try to tell me what's what?"

Cap purses his lips. He doesn't comment, lifting his own mug to his teeth without a word. Steve's smile isn't quite smug, but it's a near thing. Cap tries a different tactic. "What's your goal here?"

No sense in lying about it to the man that can make the most difference. "To fix the mistakes I made the first time around."

"Mistakes?"

Steve raises an eyebrow. He knows an open-ended question when he hears one. He's willing to answer just about anything, but he won't give up anything he doesn't have to.

Cap's face pinches. "That's really the way you want to play this?"

"You're not my priority, Cap. Someone else is."

Cap leans in, something knowing in his eyes. "Who?"

Steve purses his lips. Maybe he's not as good at holding back as he'd thought. "No one you need to worry about."

Cap sets his jaw. "It's Bucky, isn't it?"

Steve closes his eyes, trying not to feel the weakness in his chest at the name. He knows he's left Bucky behind, knows there's almost no chance he'll get back to his best friend unscathed, but that doesn't make the reminder of his absence any easier to bear. "No."

There's silence from across the countertop, and Steve sips at his drink while the word processes through his counterpart's mind. "Someone more important than Bucky?"

Steve opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his expression.

At first his doppelganger doesn't bite, staring at him head-on instead. Steve meets his gaze, even-tempered and even-keeled. Cap breaks first. "There's no one more important than Bucky."

"Maybe not for you. Maybe not yet."

Cap opens his mouth to snap back, but holds back at the last moment. "Not yet? Someone new, then."

Steve takes another deliberate sip of his coffee, giving nothing away. Tony isn't new, but the extent to which Steve would give up everything for him? That certainly is.

Cap looks to be on the verge of arguing back when they're interrupted.

"I'm telling you, Brucie-bear, there's got to be something to this. We should be able to crack this, if we can just get Thor to give us more time."

"You saw what happened when we left it unchecked, Tony. You saw what it almost did to JARVIS. You said it yourself, it's going to take you months to replicate the components of his programming that were lost. Do you really want to risk that? Risk us?"

Cap tilts his head toward the disagreement, clearly trying to pick up on whether or not he's needed to play peacekeeper.

Tony speaks before Steve can distract his counterpart. "This has always been bigger than us, Bruce. At least it has for me. You know that. JARVIS is… He's saved my life more times than I can count, but if losing him can be the reason I save someone else's life? I can't say that I would hesitate."

Steve closes his eyes. It's one of those moments where he hates his impeccable memory. He can still hear the ache in Tony's voice when he'd broken the news to them the first time.

_"There was no one else in the building."_

_"Yes, there was."_

The ache and pain and distance in Tony's voice, the way he'd spoken so softly and tenderly about JARVIS, about his memory, about what he was, about how he helped them all. Tony has always seen his creations as so much more than they were to anyone else, so much more than the rest of the world saw them as. It took losing Tony and watching that damn helmet play out his last wishes for Steve to finally start to understand that.

"You can't mean that, Tony."

"Peace in our time, Brucie. That's all there is to it. That's what this has always been about. That's all that matters."

"You don't mean that." The words startle even Steve himself. They feel torn from his lungs with the kind of desperation that had led him this far down the rabbit hole in the first place. Before he can think better of it or begin to regret, he says it again. "You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" The response feels just as automatic, as if it was torn from Tony's chest just as Steve's had been. It's a painful mirror reflecting back at him, a reminder of how far they have to go, how far they'd come in another lifetime. "You think you know me just because you've seen my future? If you really think I'd back down from saving this godforsaken planet just because it meant being hurt in turn, you don't know a damn thing about me."

Steve shakes his head. "But I do know you, Tony. I know you so well. And you're right, you'd never put yourself above the world. But JARVIS is more than the world, Tony. You know that as well as I do. Don't undermine it, not even to make a point."

Tony's face stays hard, resistance in the lines of his features. Steve doesn't turn away. In the end, Tony relents, his shoulders drooping. "I know."

"Good." There's more tenderness in Steve's voice than he'd intended, a kind of softness that shows more than Steve means to. He doesn't back down, though. He lets the words linger and slip into something more. "Thank you."

Tony swallows, clenching his eyes shut. "I lost him in your timeline, didn't I?"

"Yes." No use in sugarcoating it. "Yes, we did."

Tony looks on the verge of asking again, on the edge of wanting to know more, but it's not enough to drive him to ask in front of the others. "Alright, then. No more messing with powerful alien relics." He turns a self-deprecating smile on Bruce. "You win."

Bruce narrows his eyes and sways into Tony's space. There's something in his features that tugs at Steve's heart. "It was never about winning for me Tony."

Tony wrinkles his nose. "Yeah, yeah, alright then." The hand he extends to squeeze Bruce's elbow makes a lie of the light words.

Tony steps around Bruce and into the kitchen. He elbows Steve out of the way with a familiarity and ease that baffles Steve. His Tony had never been so easy with his affection, so close and warm and touchable, but there's something here that's more than he can even begin to imagine. Something aching, yearning, longing for more. Something he can't give Tony because he doesn't dare think what it would mean for himself.

It's too much, so Steve turns away and exits the kitchen. No one stops him.

* * *

Tony comes and knocks on Steve's door around midday. Steve looks up from the sketchbook that had appeared outside his door this morning, closing it as he does. Tony arches his eyebrows in curiosity, but Steve just gives him a blank smile in return. Tony huffs and leans against the door jamb. "Thor's leaving with the scepter. You sure you don't want to come down for this?"

Steve tilts his head to the side, thoughtful. He sets his sketchbook aside and gets to his feet, smile turning genuine. "Sure," he says. "Why not?"

Tony smiles back, leading him to the elevator up to the rooftop. Steve slips in beside him, the closeness more than he thinks he deserves in this moment. He drinks it in regardless, reveling in what it is to have Tony living and breathing at his side.

Tony shifts, and Steve can feel Tony's eyes on him. "Thank you."

Steve frowns. "For what?"

"For helping me understand how lucky I am that JARVIS made it through last night in one piece. Well, mostly."

Steve doesn't smile, even in the face of the lightness in Tony's voice. "It's not that simple, Tony. The things I may have cost the world by doing that… it's not something I like to think about."

Tony frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Steve tilts his head, thinking of Vision and the life he may have stolen by saving JARVIS. He hadn't thought of it like that until just this moment, had been so focused on saving Tony the pain of losing JARVIS that he'd forgotten Vision. Forgotten Wanda.

And what fate will befall Wanda and Pietro now? Will their paths even cross now without Ultron to guide the way? What will come of all those lives that may pass through the next week unharmed without their involvement in the Battle of Sokovia? There are too many questions and too much variability now. Steve swallows past the nerves and chaos and wonder in his throat and stares straight ahead while Tony eyes him.

"What are you thinking?" Tony asks.

Steve doesn't answer, trying to parse the best way to help Tony understand the weight of the world in front of him. There's so much still to do, so much heat and weight and want in his heart. "Too much."

Tony doesn't laugh, though Steve can feel the inclination. "Give me the elevator pitch."

Steve cracks a smile, but doesn't let himself turn to face Tony lest his face draw out more than he can reasonably share right now. "You sure you want to hear it?"

Tony turns to face him fully. Steve still doesn't let himself return his gaze. "Yes, Steve. I'm sure."

Steve closes his eyes, searching for the truthful words that will keep Tony off his back. "The butterfly effect."

Tony hums, but doesn't say anything. Steve tries to hold his tongue, tries not to let himself be drawn in any further. He doesn't manage it.

"The choice I made last night to save JARVIS… I may have destroyed two other lives by doing that. Maybe three. Maybe more. There's so much more to every action we take than just the immediate aftermath. There's a world that exists beyond these tiny, life-changing moments, and I don't know what the impact of these choices will be. There's so much more to this than I could even start to understand, but I jumped in with two feet anyway. I should have been more cautious, should have thought about the impact of every step I took up until this point. I can't just change things without regard for what the world could be without my meddling. I should have tried to understand more first. Then again," Steve says with a smile tossed over his shoulder at Tony's startled expression, "that's always been more your strong suit than mine."

Tony blinks. "You've clearly thought about this more than you give yourself credit for."

Steve hums, turning away as the door opens to the helipad. "If you say so."

Tony stops him with a hand on his arm. "Steve. Give yourself a little credit. You've always been a man that does the right thing to the best of his abilities. Don't ignore that."

If only Tony knew. "You wouldn't say that if you knew the future I know."

"I would, Steve. Absolutely. It's the one thing that I've known about you since day one, the one thing I've never doubted. You're a good man, Steve. That's never been a doubt in my mind."

Steve's throat is tight and aching. "I'm not. I'm not as good a man as I used to be," he adds at Tony's confused expression. "But you… you're one of the best men I've ever had the privilege of knowing."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "Well now I _know_ you're full of shit."

A startled laugh bursts from Steve's chest. "That's not it at all, Tony. I've seen what you can do. The goodness you're capable of. Everything you've ever brought into this world has been intended to protect. To arm. To save. That's never been a doubt in my mind. It's not your fault that the world is a darker place than you want it to be. You can only give humanity what knowledge you deign to bestow on it and let people make their own mistakes. That's it. That's all."

Tony's brow is furrowed by the time Steve finishes. "You're different."

Steve blinks. "What?"

"From my Steve. The one that exists in this time," Tony quickly corrects himself.

Steve nods and steps out of the elevator. "He hasn't made the mistakes that I have."

"What mistakes?"

Steve shakes his head. "That's not what this is about. This is about helping him avoid the mistakes I made and then going back to my own timeline."

"Come on, Steve," Tony cajoles. "You've got to want more than that."

Tony’s question pulls at his chest, digging its claws into a deep sense of knowing that Steve isn't ready to touch. Against his better judgment, he smiles. "I do, Tony. There are so many things that I want. But this is all that I can ask. All that I deserve to ask of the universe. I've gotten so much more than I should have taken, than I should have deserved, and I don't want to tempt fate by asking for more."

Never mind that every time he uses the Infinity Stones he's doing exactly that.

"Besides," Steve says, "fixing the mistake I came back to fix would be more than enough in my book."

Before Tony can push for more, Steve makes his way out the main doors. Tony follows, lingering just behind Steve's shoulder. Steve doesn't let himself look back and catch Tony's eye, too aware of what that could mean to him. To both of them. So he goes on looking dead ahead and attending to what's going on around him.

The rest of the team is assembled outside the Tower, ready to make their way to a more remote location where the transport can be completed without damaging any property in the vicinity. Steve almost gets into the cockpit of the quinjet with Tony, but Cap climbs in before Steve can do anything. Steve takes the thrown gauntlet with good grace and slides into the back of the quinjet with the rest of the team. Nat sends him a thoughtful look that Steve ignores. There's no time for him to be anything but professional here.

Steve clings to that professionalism as they make their way upstate, to the forests and brush that no one thinks of when they think of New York. It's an easy thing to find them a remote place to set Thor up to return to Asgard.

Watching the Bifrost open to take him home is as incredible as it has always been. Steve lets himself look on in wonder, heart in his throat as he thinks of the vast expanses of space that separate them from Thor's world.

A moment too late, Steve thinks that he missed the chance to tell Thor what's coming. Hela and Loki and the destruction of Asgard. Telling Thor might have saved him the pain that is coming. Then again, could he have made Thor understand quickly enough? Would it only have made things worse? Steve will have to apologize later.

Or maybe this small shift, this tiny change will be enough to ensure that none of that comes to pass. Steve can only hope.


	9. Chapter 9

Things are different after that, though not in the ways that Steve had expected. Wanda and Pietro end up catching the Avengers' attention a few months after Steve's arrival. In the ensuing game of cat-and-mouse, Steve does his best to get through to the pair of them. To help them understand that there's a place for them in the Avengers' lineup should they so choose. There has to be a way for him to get through to them. There just has to.

It takes almost a year before Steve manages to corner the pair of them to try to convince them that they have a chance to be the force for good that they think they are. He wants, so desperately to save them both the way he'd failed to in his original timeline. To find a way to bring them into the Avengers effectively, to help them _see_ —

But they never seem to hear him.

Then Wanda accidentally brings down a building full of civilians a week later in a fight with the other Avengers. Steve sees the way her eyes go wide, sees the way Pietro reaches out for her, hears the way she screams at him to get away from her. He does, though not in the way Steve thinks Wanda meant. Pietro beelines inside the building, and Steve knows before it happens that he's trying to save as many civilians as he can.

Pietro sets a mother cradling her son down beside Wanda, pausing for just a moment as though to check on her. He seems to be able to see the way Wanda is struggling to hold everything together, to keep her world intact. In the same instant, Steve sees the acceptance on Pietro's face clear as day. It pulls at his chest and has him turning on his heel to try to help the speedster get as many people out of the building as he can.

But Pietro trips him before he's more than three steps toward the building. In the split second of contact Steve sees the boy grinning at him. He sees, for the first time in almost two decades, the brother that Wanda had loved. Steve tries to reach out and snatch him back in turn but he is, perhaps predictably, too fast. Steve swears and scrambles to his feet, but there's no time. The building is going to come down before Tony can get any sort of structural support in place, before Pietro can save more than a few dozen more civilians, and for all that Steve is willing, there's no reason for Steve to get himself killed in the eventual collapse.

Pietro is a blur through the space around Steve, Tony and Thor are both doing their best to stabilize the structure.Wanda is the only thread of hope that they have.

Steve startles when Pietro comes to a stop next to him. "I think I've got them all, but if your tin man can find anything I've missed—"

Steve understands without the boy needing to finish his sentence. "Tony," he says into the coms, "any heat signatures left in there?"

There's nothing from Tony's end for a moment before he swears. "I can't tell with all the voodoo shit she's throwing around. It's messing with my sensors."

Steve swallows and looks up at Pietro. "He's not sure."

"Her magic?"

Steve nods. Pietro's face goes steely. He looks over at Wanda, and Steve can see the uncertainty in his expression. Steve reaches out just in time to grasp his wrist before he goes hurtling into the building to make certain there's no one left behind. Steve can see the conviction in his eyes in that moment and knows, somehow, that he has to stop Pietro now or everything is screwed. "Don't."

Pietro looks down at him, eyes wide and incredulous. "What do you care?"

"I've seen what it will do to her to lose you. She doesn't deserve that, not now, not ever. Don't leave her alone."

"There could be civilians in there."

"But if there are, they didn't reach out to you. You didn't see them, Pietro. If you didn't see them, how could you have saved them?"

Pietro wavers for a moment at whatever he sees in Steve's face. Then he glances over his shoulder. Steve doesn't know this boy hardly at all, but he knows his sister, and if there's one thing he knows about Wanda Maximoff, it's that there's not a lot she wouldn't do to see her mission through to the end. So when Steve follows his line of sight and sees Tony in the suit doing everything he can to support the struggling structure, Steve knows what he's thinking.

He loosens his grip on Pietro's wrist.

Pietro turns to look at him. Steve can see it the moment he understands what Steve's thinking.

"Hey Tony," Steve says, speaking into his com as quickly as he can, "the speedster's gonna do one more sweep and then I'm gonna have Wanda let the building drop. He may need a ride if she drops it too soon."

"How's he going to—" Tony swears again. "Steve, don't you fucking—"

Steve's already pulling the communicator out from his ear to hand it to Pietro. "Let him save you, Pietro. Don't die for this. Promise me that."

Pietro pauses for the space of a breath before he's snatching the com from Steve's hand and fitting it in his ear. "Just make sure he'll hold up his side of the bargain."

"He will." Steve glances over at Tony and knows that he'll already have had JARVIS max out the range on the communicator in Pietro's ear. "He owes me."

Pietro winces at whatever Tony says to that, then takes off back into the building.

For his part, Steve makes his way over to Wanda, kneeling down in front of her. He can see the tendons standing out in her neck and the way her eyes have glazed over with pain. Her fingers are twitching as though trying to keep their grip on the building. Steve searches her eyes for any hint of understanding. He doesn't find any. She seems to be off in her own little world, her mind wheeling and reeling with the intensity of holding the building up with her power alone.

Steve wants to tell her that it's okay. That they're going to get everyone out, Pietro included, and they're going to do everything they can to keep the situation handled. He wants to tell her everything will be okay.

But he can't. Whether it will break her concentration or no, he can't put that burden on her. So he waits and watches and when a single tear tracks its way down her cheek, Steve fears everything is about to fall apart.

He has no control over it, though. He just has to be ready to catch her when she falls.

Because she does fall. All at once her eyes roll back and she collapses and Steve lunges forward to break her fall. He lowers her to the ground, checking for a pulse. When he finds one, he sweeps her up into his arms and heads out of the potential blast zone as fast as he can.

"She's coming down! Someone tell Tony!"

Steve doesn't hear anyone say anything. He's too far out of range to do much more than scramble across the intervening distance. He hears Tony's repulsors fire up, though, and hopes that means he's grabbing Pietro out of the worst of the crumbling building.

Cap and the rest of the team sans Tony all converge on him as soon as he's clear of the worst of the debris. He sees the way they're all eyeing Wanda with everything from wariness to outright hostility. Steve pulls her in a little closer against his chest, feeling protective of her in a way that he hasn't since he and Nat freed her from the Raft. He's not sure why he's so sure that they're going to want to take her into custody, but he is, and he knows that doing that will only widen the distance between them. He can't let that happen. Not if he wants a shot at saving them all.

Before anyone can say anything, Tony touches down in front of Steve with Pietro in his arms. Pietro only has eyes for Wanda, and when he looks up at Steve in terror, Steve just smiles and shakes his head. "She's fine. Exhausted, obviously, but fine."

Pietro nods, then wrinkles his nose. "How would you even know that?"

Steve grins. "That's a bit more complicated."

Pietro stiffens. "What do you mean?"

Steve shakes his head. "That's a question for—"

"For when you two are ready to face justice."

Steve rolls his eyes at the righteousness in his counterpart's voice. "Chill, Cap. They're not dangerous, just misguided."

"Yeah, well, misguided just took out an apartment full of civilians."

"An apartment _empty_ of civilians, thanks to Pietro."

Cap glares at him. It's not the first time the two of them have gotten into it over something like this, but Steve can tell that Cap's getting close to the end of his rope. Steve tightens his grip on Wanda, trying to keep her close and safe as best he can.

Pietro catches his eye, and Steve can feel the way they're both ready to fight for Wanda. Whatever she needs. Whatever it takes. Pietro jerks his chin toward Wanda, fast enough that anyone not looking for it would miss it. Steve nods in turn, and Pietro zips out of Tony's hold and across to Steve in the space of a breath. He lifts Wanda carefully from Steve's arms and then stops just behind his shoulder. All of the Avengers tense at that, and Steve can see the way they're all jonesing for a fight.

"No," Steve says before the moment can escalate. "You're not going to attack them because they're not going anywhere."

"We're not?" Cap and Pietro ask at the same time.

Steve looks over his shoulder at Pietro first. Better to stop the speedster before the self-righteous asshole. "You two are going to become a target after this if you're not under our protection. You think hiding is challenging when you've got the locals' support? Try doing it when they hate you." Pietro goes paler than usual. He straightens and nods.

Steve turns back to Cap. "And you're not going to attack them because they're kids and they deserve every second chance that you got."

Cap's eyes go wide. Steve stays firm in his convictions and doesn't back down. But Cap is just as clever as Steve knows he is, and he catches the slip that Steve left for him. "What protection do you think we can offer them?"

Steve purses his lips and nods at Tony. "I mean, we do have a billionaire genius on hand who might be able to help with negotiations."

"Negotiations?"

Steve looks over at Tony. He sees it the moment Tony tenses with understanding. "Wait, are you telling me the Registration Act—"

"It's going to be called something different after this, but yes, Tony. They're going to pass it."

Tony swears. "How long do we have?"

Steve shrugs. "After this? I'm guessing not long. We have time, but not much, and we'll need that PR spin your people are so good at."

Tony's head twitches in what might be a nod.

Cap glances between the two of them. "What are you two talking about?"

Tony shakes his head, and Steve can tell from the distracted way he's moving that he's already monitoring news feeds and putting out calls to his PR department to try to mitigate the damage they've done here today. "Later, Cap. Right now we need damage control."

Steve turns back to the twins. Pietro still looks ready to bolt, and Steve can't have that. "Look. Pietro. There's not a lot of time right now for you to make a decision. You don't have to trust us completely, but I need you to trust that I'm on your side."

Pietro glances down at Wanda so fast that Steve would have missed it if he hadn't been looking out for it. "And if you want to wait until she wakes up so she can check me, that's fine. Whatever it takes to help you trust me. But I can't risk losing the two of you. I need you safe."

"Why?"

Steve nods at the seemingly unintended question. "Because you may be the only way to save someone very important to me."

Pietro blinks. He glances down at Wanda again, sets his jaw, and looks up to meet Steve's eyes. "I'm not going until she wakes up and we can make the decision together. I'm not going to decide for her."

Steve exhales. "Fair enough. I'm not going to leave you two alone, though. I can't have you running off until you've made your decision."

"Alright," Pietro says with a nod. "I can do that."

It takes the better part of half an hour for Wanda to come around. In that time Tony's asked Steve half a dozen questions about the so-called Registration Act, Pietro's started pacing at super speed beside Wanda's body, and the rest of the Avengers have retreated to the quinjet while they wait.

Pietro's kneeling at Wanda's side before Steve has even realized that she's woken up. Steve keeps his distance, letting the twins whisper to one another. When Wanda looks over at him, Steve knows what she's going to ask before she does.

"Will you let me search your intentions?"

"If that's what it takes."

Wanda nods. "It is."

"Then that's fine with me."

Tony's back is turned, so he doesn't see the way Pietro helps Wanda across the space between them. Wanda's fingers are shaking as she reaches up to touch Steve's temple. It's the first time in decades that he's been touched by Wanda's power, and at first the sensation leaves him more frightened than it needs to. She doesn't push too hard, though, only taking what he gives. Steve has to trust that she won't hurt him. He closes his eyes and lets her see.

He lets her see his history, the depth of his need to save Tony, how much Tony means to him. There's something niggling at the back of his mind at that, something trying to break through to make him understand. He hears Tony shout something, can _feel_ the way Tony's making his way over to them. All at once the tension between Steve and Wanda snaps in two and Steve is left staring at her wide-eyed and stunned. That can't be. What she's just shown him— that _can't_ be.

Wanda looks just as surprised, but then her lips curve into a small smile. She presses a kiss to Steve's forehead, pulls back, and looks at Pietro. "I trust him."

Tony's on Steve before he can even process Wanda's words. Steve's world feels rocked to the core and there's nothing he can do but stare even as Tony wheels him around and shakes him. "What did she do?"

Steve swallows and shakes off the lingering fog of realization. He glances at Tony for a moment, but the realization is too thick and heavy in his chest for Steve to face Tony right now. He looks away. "Nothing I didn't ask her to."

Tony glares at Wanda and Pietro. "If you hurt him—"

"I was merely trying to understand his intentions," Wanda says. Her voice is warm and apologetic. "I delved deeper than intended, but it served its purpose and your Captain did not try to stop me. He knows just how important this is to both of us." She looks over at Steve. "Thank you."

Steve's mouth is dry. He wants to say something, but he's not entirely sure what he wants to say. Thank you for showing me? Damn you for making me understand? What were you thinking?

It doesn't matter what he says though. The truth is the same regardless. Steve is— Steve is—

And then the understanding blooms even brighter in his chest. This isn't a bad thing. This isn't anything dangerous or frightening or overwhelming, no matter how it might feel right now. This is just the inevitable conclusion of what he's spent the last decade doing. Steve looks up just in time to see Tony turning back to him, his helmet retracting in the same moment. "You okay, Steve?"

Steve isn't sure if he's okay.

What he is sure of is that he's in love with Tony.

Steve swallows. "She didn't do anything I didn't ask her to."

Tony glares. "That's not what I asked you."

Steve looks away. "I'm… I'm not okay. But I will be in a minute."

Tony doesn't look convinced, Steve musters up the best smile he can. "I'll be fine, Tony. And if this is what it took for them to trust us, then it was a small price to pay."

Tony sighs and glares over at the twins. "If they're playing you—"

"They're not. They're good kids, Tony."

"And you know this how?"

Steve smiles. "Because I spent three years working with Wanda and she only ever had good things to say about Pietro. I trust them."

Tony hums. One of his metal-covered hands is resting on the back of Steve's head. Steve wants to lean into it, to feel this version of Tony so completely, but he refrains. "Okay," he says. "If you're sure."

Steve nods. "I am."

"And you two still want to tag along?"

Pietro glances at Wanda, who nods. "We do."

Tony sets his jaw. "Alright. Then we'd better get back to the team."

The flight back to the States is awkward. Steve can feel the mistrust rolling off of Cap in waves, and Natasha seems a little wary herself. Steve doesn't blame Natasha in the slightest — trust has always been a challenge for her — but he's grateful that Clint and Bruce, at least, seem willing to give the twins a chance. Clint is helping Pietro tend to the myriad of small wounds that he'd sustained in the collapse, and Bruce is gently tending to Wanda's exhaustion. There's something tender about all this, about the way that Clint and Bruce and Tony have all welcomed the twins into the fold in their own way.

Steve's mind skitters away from the thought of Tony. The warmth in his chest is familiar, but the word that comes with it is strange and disorienting. Love. He loves Tony. Steve's known for years that Tony was important to him, but being important and being the person Steve loves are two totally different things. But there's no denying the reality of it.

Steve Rogers loves Tony Stark.

Steve closes his eyes and inhales. It's going to take awhile to get used to this, but he'll do it. He doesn't have any other choice.

* * *

When they get back to the States, Steve inserts himself between Wanda and Pietro and the rest of the Avengers. It's not that he thinks they need the protection so much as that it gives him something to do while he figures out what Tony needs from him to get the Accords handled while not making his newly discovered interest clear. It's a delicate balance to keep, but Steve does it because he has to. It's the only way to keep this whole life working the way he needs it to. So he trains Wanda and Pietro under Tony and Natasha's watchful eyes and waits for Tony to pass judgment on the kids and the world.

Tony comes to him just over two weeks after their return from Sokovia. "You got a minute, Steve?"

Steve smiles as reassuringly as he can at the twins before slipping out of the breakfast nook. "What can I do for you, Tony?"

Tony pauses, searching Steve's eyes. He frowns, not seeming to have found what he was looking for. "The UN is calling for the Maximoff twins' surrender. They're holding their line that they want to register every superpowered human and regulate their actions or have them face life in prison."

Steve purses his lips. "And you can't talk them down?"

"Not without a peace offering or a really good spokesperson."

Steve blinks, reading between the lines. "You want me to speak before the UN."

"I do."

"You already asked Cap?"

"He wasn't interested," Tony says, failing to hide his disdain at that.

Steve wets his lips. "What do you think will happen if I go up there instead of him?"

"If he lets it lie—"

"He won't."

Tony swears. "If he'd just shut up and _listen_ for a minute we could have solved this already."

"Believe me, I know." Steve shakes his head. "If you want me to do it, I will, but you have to know what a gambit it is."

"You would?"

Steve's heart flutters at the hope in Tony's tone. It's the same feeling he's had for years, but it feels different with his new lens. "I would."

Tony's eyes spark with hope and for a second Steve thinks he might ask. Tony shuts the expression down and looks away. "You're right, though. That could land us in much deeper water than we can afford right now." Tony huffs and crosses his arms, squinting over at where Wanda is floating more pancakes onto Pietro's plate. "They're good kids."

"They are."

Tony squints up at him. "You knew them? In your timeline?"

Steve turns away to look over at the twins again. "I knew Wanda well."

"And Pietro?" Tony asks when Steve doesn't elaborate.

"Pietro died before I got a chance to know him."

That seems to startle Tony. "Died?"

Steve nods, but doesn't elaborate. Tony turns away as well, as though understanding that this isn't something Steve wants to talk about.

When Tony does speak, it's with the kind of ironclad conviction that Steve has always known him to hold. "I'll talk to Cap again."

Steve doesn't tell him that it might be a useless attempt. They both know that. But this Tony has always seemed to believe in Steve more than Steve had ever believed in himself. If anyone can convince Cap of the importance of this endeavor, it's Tony.

Three weeks later when Cap appears before the UN to speak out against the strict version of the Registration Act in favor of a more limited version, Steve wonders what exactly Tony had said to change his mind.

The answer comes ten days later when Cap ships off to Bucharest. Steve only knows because Wanda mentions it offhandedly, but he knows what this means better than anyone else possibly can.

Anyone except maybe Tony.

Steve finds Tony in his workshop within hours of Cap's departure. "You found him."

Tony looks up from his tablet to frown at Steve. It takes him a moment to parse what Steve's talking about, but the second he does he frowns. "Of course I did. Don't know why Cap didn't ask me sooner; I could have found Barnes for him ages ago."

Steve pulls his lips back from his teeth. "You have no idea what you've done."

Tony looks utterly surprised. "What are you talking about? I found his best friend. _Your_ best friend. I thought you would be happy."

"And how exactly did he sell it to you?" Steve asks. The sneer feels wrong on his face but he can't get rid of it. Tony doesn't say anything, his eyes wide as he watches Steve rage. It makes Steve want to shake him until his teeth rattle. "Did he just tell you not to ask questions about Bucky and then he'd do what you asked?"

It's what Steve would have done.

Tony doesn't answer, still staring up at Steve, slack jawed and silent. "God, he didn't tell you anything, did he?" Steve fists his fingers in his hair, tugging at it. "He didn't say a damn thing about it."

"About what? Steve, what are you talking about?"

Steve can feel the words on the back of his tongue, ready to spill over and do whatever he can to break this. If he had just thought— If he had just _asked_ —

God. How different could things have been?

"Steve, what's going on?"

It's like watching a car crash in slow motion. 

"He killed your parents."

Tony goes white. "What?"

Steve can't stop now that he's started. "Bucky killed your parents. He took out their car and he beat your father bloody and he choked your mother to death. He was completely brainwashed when it happened, but it did."

"Why are you telling me this?" Tony's voice is small and Steve can't stop the words that follow.

"Because I knew. He knows. He knows and he didn't tell you. That's why he insisted you do this without asking questions. He didn't want to risk you finding out. In my timeline, it broke us. That knowledge broke me and my Tony. And it could break you two too if you let it."

Tony's eyes on him are enough to have Steve wanting to turn tail and run, or maybe just sweep Tony up in his arms and apologize. He makes an aborted movement toward Tony, but Tony jerks away and shakes his head. "Get out."

"Tony—"

"Get out," Tony shouts, and Steve can't help it. He turns tail and runs.


	10. Chapter 10

Tony comes and finds him hours later in one of the training rooms with Wanda and Pietro. He stays on the balcony high above and calls down.

"Steve. A word."

"Oh thank god," Pietro says, flopping to the ground and sprawling out. "Tony Stark, our savior."

Wanda laughs breathlessly and settles beside Pietro. "What would our ten year-old selves have to say about that?"

Steve leaves the twins to their laughter and makes his way up to Tony. He pulls the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face. When he drops it, it's to see Tony's eyes on his, hard and unyielding. Steve almost looks away, but that's never gotten him any of Tony's sympathy. So he meets the gaze, ready to face his punishment.

Tony clicks his tongue and jerks his head toward the door. Steve follows, silent and ready to take his licks. Tony leads the way to the kitchenette where they usually have breakfast, and then past it to one of the adjoining conference rooms. Too late, Steve realizes it's the same room where they had argued about the Accords so many years and lifetimes ago. His throat is tight as he tries not to look around the room or feel too weak when Tony sits down in the chair Steve himself had occupied so long ago.

Tony points to a chair. "Sit."

Steve does.

Tony goes on watching him for long enough that Steve starts to feel the muscle cramps that come from walking away from a workout without cooling down or stretching out. He doesn't do anything about that, though. The serum will take care of it, and in the meantime, he has his own actions to answer for.

"Why did you tell me?"

Steve blinks. "Sorry?"

"About my parents and Bucky. Why did you tell me?"

Steve almost wants to snap that he'd already answered that question, that he doesn't want to have to say the words again. But then Tony's question settles against his ribs and he understands.

Steve bows his head and speaks.

"In my timeline… In my timeline I let my pride get in the way. I wanted to believe that it wasn't Bucky I saw in the footage. That Hydra hadn't really used him like that. Used him against you. I didn't want it to be true.

"But more than that, I was scared. I didn't want to believe that this could be the thing that broke us." He quirks his lips wryly. "I didn't want to believe we were already broken."

Tony doesn't answer. His silence and stillness make his position on all this even clearer than his words ever could.

So Steve keeps talking, more to kill the silence than anything else. "I hid my search from you — from my Tony — and he never asked. And when I found Bucky—" Steve swallows and presses a hand to his forehead. "When I found him we were already fighting over the Accords. The Registration Act. That's what we called it in my timeline. 'The Sokovia Accords.' Like Sokovia was where this all started even though we all know that isn't true." Steve shakes his head. "I didn't want to listen to you about anything, least of all Bucky. I didn't understand where you were coming from then. That sometimes we do have to trade a few lives for the greater good."

"I never said—"

"Not in so many words, no. But that's what I heard." Steve looks up at Tony, feeling the tears pushing at the backs of his eyes. "I'm sorry. I— I've been trying to figure out what my place is here, what my role is, and then I realized—" _I love you._ He bites the words back and changes track. "I realized that there may not be a place for me here, that I might really just be that man out of time forever, that I'm as useless as I ever was and I was just taking that out on you and—"

Tony clasps a hand around Steve's wrist and Steve's words dry up all at once from the contact. He stares down at Tony's hand, trying to understand what it means. He wets his lips and forces himself to look up and meet Tony's gaze.

The smile is tight, but Steve can tell that it's genuine. 

Steve isn't quite sure what to say to that. He nods, though, trusting Tony to do what needs to be done.

Tony gets to his feet, not letting go of Steve's wrist. He leans into Steve's space as he does, and Steve can smell his shampoo and an undercurrent of motor oil as he does. Steve tries not to close his eyes or lean into Tony's space in turn, but it's a challenge.

Tony looks up at him though, something knowing in his eyes. Steve tries not to let that pull him in any closer. He looks away and slips his wrist from Tony's hand. Tony doesn't say anything, and Steve doesn't look to see if he reacts in any other way. They stand together in silence until Steve straightens and meets Tony's eyes. "Alright, then. So." He wants to say something brusque and easy, something to reinstate the distance between them. He can't. "We're okay?"

Tony blinks. His lips soften into a smile and Steve doesn't let his eyes flick down to them. "We are."

"And. And Bucky?"

Tony purses his lips and nods sharply. "I know he didn't do it on purpose. I know he didn't do it willingly. I won't hold it against him."

Steve lets out a breath, releasing the air in a huff. "Thank you."

Tony nods and turns on his heel. Steve understands the dismissal in the motion and goes back to finish training with the twins. He can't let himself linger in lust like this. Tony already has someone in his life that loves him, more than Steve himself ever could, especially when it took him so long to realize. He doesn't get to take that from Tony. It's outside the scope of his mission.

* * *

There's an icy, brittle sort of stalemate in the compound after they get Bucky out of Bucharest. Cap looks surprised when Tony just nods at him upon their arrival before ushering Bucky into the compound. Bucky throws a startled look over his shoulder at Cap, but Cap just musters a smile and nods. Bucky seems to accept that, because he turns away and goes with Tony without any semblance of a struggle.

Steve watches them go, letting his heart swell with the now familiar want he feels when Tony walks away. Before he has time to let it settle into place, Cap grabs him by the shoulder to wheel him around. "What did you say to him?"

Steve hasn't thought about this part of revealing their shared secret. He'd been too angry to look this far ahead. Hah. Like he ever had much more foresight than the battle right in front of his eyes.

Cap shakes him. "What's going on?"

Steve wrenches his arm out of Cap's grasp and stands up a little taller. "I did what I should have done the first time around. What _you_ should have done when you found out."

Cap searches his face. His eyes go wide when he understands. "You told him."

Steve doesn't answer.

"About Howard and Bucky. You told him what happened."

"I did."

"And you just _let him_ take Bucky down there?"

"He's not going to hurt Bucky. He's not the one Tony's angry with."

Cap frowns. "What?"

"You lied to him, Cap. knowingly. Willingly. _Willfully_. You kept crucial information from him and showed utterly no remorse about that."

"I was doing what I had to do to protect Bucky," Cap says with a glare.

"That's what I thought too. That Bucky was the only one that mattered. But Tony's a part of this too. He's more than just a part of it, he's the core. You don't get to lie to him and not face the consequences."

"I didn't even know for sure that it was Bucky."

"Of course you did. We know better than anyone else how Bucky rolls. I'd know his work anywhere and so would you. That file wasn't there just to poke holes in your faith, it was there because it was the truth. You don't get to hide that from him without bearing the consequences."

Cap narrows his eyes and steps into Steve's space. "How are you so convinced that it was him?"

"Because I saw it."

Cap blinks. "What?"

"There was footage of the accident. I watched the Winter Soldier pull Howard Stark out of a car and bash his head against the door until he was dead. I watched him choke Maria Stark to death. I watched what they did to our best friend and I saw what it did to Tony. I wasn't going to let him find out that way again."

Cap's gone white with shock in front of him. Steve knows he should feel worse about dumping all of this on Cap without warning but he has no desire to sugarcoat it. This is what HYDRA did to Bucky, and hiding from it won't change a thing. When Cap doesn't respond, Steve turns on his heel and makes his way back into the compound. He almost goes to the gym to work off the stress of facing his other self down, but the niggling of doubt in the back of his mind is enough to have him going down to Tony's workshop to check on him and Bucky. If Cap's right—

But he isn't. Tony's checking over Bucky's arm when Steve gets down there, poking and prodding and muttering. Bucky looks bewildered but receptive, moving his arm obligingly whenever Tony asks. Bucky looks up when Steve walks in, his mouth half-open as though to say something when he stops and takes in Steve's appearance.

"You're not Stevie."

Steve shrugs. He grabs a stool from the other side of Tony's workbench and sits down across from Bucky, meeting his eyes head on. He knows this man like he knows his own soul, but there's something different here. Something distant and strange and Steve's as curious as Bucky looks. "Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm from a parallel timeline in the future."

Steve hears Tony snort. "Really? You're just gonna throw it all at him at once?"

"No reason not to," Steve says with a shrug. "He's seen weirder."

Bucky laughs. "I guess I have." He looks at Steve, sweeping his eyes over Steve from head to toe. He tilts his head to the side and straightens his arm when Tony asks. "How far into the future?"

"That's complicated."

"Of course it is." Bucky rolls his eyes. "You've never been able to do things the easy way."

Warmth curls in Steve's chest, but it's a distant sort of sensation. It's not the same as what he feels when Tony smiles at him, but there's something in it that feels like it could have been. Bucky's always been important to him, and God only knows how much the world has fucked him over, usually because of things Steve could have prevented. Seeing him here, whole and only somewhat broken hurts in a way Steve had forgotten it could.

Bucky frowns. "What're you lookin' at me like that for?"

Steve shrugs. "I don't think I realized how much I missed you."

Bucky's eyes go wide. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I've been doing this time travel thing for awhile now, and I haven't gotten to see much of you. I'd forgotten… well. I'd forgotten a lot of things."

Bucky seems to accept that. He turns back to Tony, and Steve can see him about to open his mouth to say something when there's a sharp clang against the lab windows. Steve and Bucky both startle, but Tony goes right on staring at Bucky's arm.

"I said no, JARVIS."

"Of course, sir. And if he attempts to force entry again?"

Steve looks over his shoulder at the door to the lab where Cap is standing, still dressed in his uniform armed to the teeth. Steve sighs and turns to Tony. "You want me to go talk him down?"

Tony snorts. "You think you can?"

"Fair point."

"Is he going to back down?"

With the two most important people in his life in the room? "No."

Tony sighs. "Alright, then. Let him in JARVIS."

"Of course, sir."

The door slides open and Cap comes storming in. Steve stands and positions himself between Cap and the workbench, shielding Tony and Bucky from view. Cap glowers at him, but when he speaks, the words aren't for Steve.

"You alright there, Buck?"

"Fine," Bucky says. Steve can hear the bewilderment in his voice. "Stark was just taking a look at my arm."

"I'm sure he was."

"Watch your tone," Steve says levelly.

"No," Tony says, and Steve can hear him lowering Bucky's arm to his side and turning on the stool. "Let him say his piece."

Cap glares at Steve. "I want to know what the hell you two were thinking bringing Bucky straight in here when we all know Tony's compromised right now."

Steve opens his mouth to answer but Tony cuts him off with a sharp, brittle laugh. " _I'm_ compromised, Cap? Try again."

Cap gestures at Steve. "That bastard told me what he told you. You really think you're in any condition to help him right now?"

"Of course I am. Barnes had no control over what he was doing. Speaking of which, we'll need to work on that to see how we can protect you from being used that way again."

Bucky blinks between Tony and Cap. "Um."

"And what exactly does that have to do with you ignoring me out there, then?"

Tony slams his hand down on the workbench and uses it to lever himself to his feet. "It has everything to do with that, _Captain_." Steve almost winces at the sneer, grateful that it isn't directed at him. Tony points at Bucky, who jumps at that. "Because _he_ had no control over what he was doing. You made your choices yourself."

Cap blinks. Steve feels his heart wither in his chest. Bucky still just looks confused.

And Tony, beautiful brilliant Tony, turns away from Cap to sit back down at Bucky's side. "Get out."

"Tony—"

"Get out, Cap."

"But—"

"Now."

Steve does flinch at the intensity of the tone, the way Tony seems to want nothing to do with Cap in this moment. Which, honestly, is probably the case. Steve remembers the betrayal writ large on Tony's face almost two decades ago as he'd brought his shield down on Tony's chest. After, too. Cap looks equally struck by the tone and he backs up a few paces. Steve watches him wet his lips and look away from Tony. "Right. That's… Okay."

Tony appears unmoved when Steve looks back at him, his face shuttered. Bucky glances between Cap and Tony, Steve seemingly forgotten. "Stevie—"

"No, it's— it's okay, Buck. He's right. I made my choices. And as long as he's not going to hold it against you, I can take my licks. Always could."

Steve bites his lip, holding back the words he wishes someone had made him say so long ago. He blinks twice and forces himself to look up at Bucky.

"He'll take good care of you, Bucky," Steve says. "He's a good man."

Then Steve gets to his feet and heads over to follow Cap out the door. He knows he made this mess, but right now he doesn't think he has the strength to fix it.

* * *

Tony doesn't let up in his silent treatment of Cap over the intervening weeks. Steve is still welcome in the lab if the way Tony never kicks him out is any indication. In between negotiations on the Accords Tony practically drags Bucky down there daily to work on undoing the programming HYDRA had embedded in his brain. Cap's tried more than once to join them in the lab during those sessions, but between JARVIS's controls and Tony's glares, he never makes it past the door. Steve thinks he should feel guilty, but he doesn't. This is Cap paying his penance for lying to Tony the same way Steve did his time on the run.

It's only fair.

Bucky's bewilderment turns to bemusement over the intervening days, and Steve lets himself relax a little. Bucky doesn't seem to totally understand what's going on between Cap and Tony, but Steve's pretty sure that's because Cap himself doesn't understand, so he doesn't tell Bucky anything that might undermine Tony in his eyes. Oddly, Bucky and Tony seem to be thick as thieves within a few days of his arrival. Steve isn't entirely sure how that happened, but it did, and he can't say he's at all upset about it. Both of them deserve a little reprieve amidst the chaos in their lives. Steve wants all that and more for both of them, and if this is the way they get it, he can't really complain.

Eventually, though, Bucky starts poking at the edge of Tony's relationship with Cap. He asks little questions, careful things that might go unnoticed by anyone but Tony. But Tony's a certified genius even if he can be clumsy when it comes to personal relationships. Tony pointedly doesn't answer the questions. Every time that happens, Bucky looks up at Steve as though asking for an assist. Steve never provides one.

Bucky follows Steve out of the lab after about a week of this, and Steve knows what's coming before it does. "What's up with you and Tony?"

Steve swallows. "It's complicated."

"Because you're from the future?"

"Among other things."

Bucky huffs, shaking his head. "I get that this whole mystery man thing might work for you with some people, Steve, but this is me. What's going on?"

Steve shrugs. "I came back here to make things right. That's the whole point of all of this. If I can't do that, why am I even here?"

Bucky pauses for a moment before answering. "To make things right for you, or to make things right for Tony?"

Steve swallows. "Is there a difference?"

"Of course there is. You and Tony both know you're not from around here. Even if you could reconcile whatever's going on in your head with what's going on out here, I can't help but think that you wouldn't really want to take Tony away from Stevie."

"What?"

"Come on, man, he's you. You've gotta see how much all this is hurting him."

The thing is, Steve does. He sees it every day at breakfast and in training, any time Cap tries to come by the lab, any time Tony is in the same room as Cap. He knows how much this is hurting both of them, and if there's one thing that Steve can't bear it's seeing Tony in pain.

Steve swallows. "So, what, you want me to make Cap's excuses to Tony and make everything better?"

"Course not. I want you to hold both of them accountable for the way they're acting and then you and I can help them sort their shit out."

"You don't think you can do that on your own?"

"I could," Bucky says with a shrug, "but I don't think Tony trusts me the way he trusts you. He would never do anything to hurt me intentionally, but sometimes I think he's too smart for his own good. That he might jump in and do something that he regrets later on."

Steve can absolutely understand the fear. It must be why Bucky hasn't been pressing too hard. It might also explain why Tony's been avoiding talking to Cap and why Cap's been avoiding Tony altogether. Everyone's in a holding pattern with Steve himself at the center.

Steve sighs. "I can't promise it'll be pretty."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"I can't even promise that it'll work out the way you want."

"At least it's more than this waiting on the end of the world thing that they've got going."

Steve huffs. "If only you knew how true that was." Bucky frowns at him, but Steve waves him off. "I'll work on Tony. Don't worry about that. Just… Just look out for Cap for me for a bit. I'll see what I can do."

Bucky grins. It feels like the first real grin that Steve's seen on his face this whole time. Might be his first real grin since he lived through 1944 in that first lifetime. Steve tries to smile back, but his stomach feels leaden with the weight of what Bucky's asked him to do. He's not entirely sure that Cap even wants Tony the way Steve does, but in the end that doesn't matter. What matters is that Steve do right by Tony, and Tony deserves a shot with the Cap that he knows rather than the one that came charging into his timeline and broke everything.

* * *

It takes the better part of a week for Steve to get Tony warmed up to the idea of even talking _about_ Cap, let alone talking _to_ Cap. But it's progress, and Steve is grateful for that at least. He keeps needling and poking and prying while he waits for Tony to snap, but he never does. He just meets Steve's eyes levelly as though to challenge him into saying anything more than he already has and each time all Steve can do is back down. He's trying, though, and that has to count for something.

At some point, Bucky starts to note that the healing process from Tony's tech isn't as effective any more. They're still a long way away from anything like what Steve saw in those brief moments with Bucky before the battle of Wakanda all those years ago, but they're closer than they've been in a long time. Between Cap and Bucky, though, it's clear that the nightmares and panic attacks are just as bad as they've been before. Tony's about as pleased with that as Cap is, and that's the moment that Steve realizes he's going to have to come clean. 

"The thing is, Tony, the first time around you weren't the one that helped Bucky get back to level."

"Come again?"

Steve winces at Tony's raised eyebrow. "There's someone out there that's a bit more equipped to help him than you are."

Tony crosses his arms over his chest. "And who, exactly, is that?"

"That's not something I can answer without their permission."

Tony's eyebrow goes even higher. "You really think I won't know who they are the second you give me their name? Even if you don't. I'm sure that between me and Bruce we can dig up the name of someone that has better tech in this area than I do."

Steve smiles in spite of himself. Tony's arrogance had bugged the hell out of him early on in their relationship, but Steve knows now that it isn't arrogance so much as pyre, unadulterated confidence.

He shakes his head. "It's not that simple. They're very well hidden. They don't want to be found."

"Right. But you can find them?"

"I know my way around their defenses."

Tony purses his lips. "Well. If you really think we need them…."

Steve shrugs when Tony leaves the question open-ended. "I don't think we need them. But it might speed the process along."

Tony looks up at Bucky where he's running a simulation on Tony's BARF technology. He glances over at the readouts from the tech and frowns at whatever he sees there. He turns back to Steve. "Alright. Go do your thing then, secret-keeper. Let me know what you find out."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends. I'm sorry I missed last seek's update; I've been struggling mentally for awhile and this chapter just wasn't ready to be posted until this week. I'll be able to stay on a regular weekly schedule for the foreseeable future because this particular fic is all written and just needs some work from my wonderful beat ishipallthings to be post-able. Thank you so much to all of you that have come out of the woodwork to support this fic; you're the real heroes here and I might not have been able to post this today without you. Thanks for joining me on this ride!!

Steve wastes no time in grabbing a flight across the globe and making his way to the edge of Wakanda. He finds his way to one of the secret back doors that T'Challa had shown him years ago and makes his way inside. He's ready to be accosted within the first fifteen minutes of his arrival in Wakanda and he isn't disappointed.

"What do you want, outsider?"

"I am here to request an audience with his Highness King T'Cha—" Steve cuts himself off before he can finish T'Challa's name. Will he still be the king in this timeline without the bombing? He changes tactics. "With her Highness Princess Shuri and those that she trusts most among her team."

Something jabs at Steve's back. He goes with the shove, trying to make it clear that he isn't going to fight back. "What makes you think anyone would let you anywhere near the Princess?"

"Because it isn't your decision to make. The Princess is her own woman and she may make her own choices." The soldiers around him mutter to one another in Wakandan. Steve is just fluent enough to make out that they're seriously considering his words. He doesn't let on how much he can understand, though, and in less than a minute they're tugging him to his feet. A look around shows one of the 

"Very well, outsider. We will see to it that you will have an audience with the Princess."

Steve resists the urge to snark. He follows along obediently as they make their way toward the palace. Steve is a little worried that they don't blindfold him, that they don't make any attempt to hide the path from him. He's relatively certain that they are planning on killing him if they don't like the way he treats Shuri. It's not that he thinks they actually will succeed so much as that he doesn't want to deal with that in the slightest. There's way too much at stake here for Steve to fuck this up.

Shuri takes one look at him and immediately frowns. "This is the person that wanted to see me?"

"Your Highness—"

" _Only to ask your help, Your Highness._ "

Shuri blinks at the carefully crafted Wakandan rolling off his tongue. " _You speak Wakandan._ "

Steve shrugs. " _Only enough to ask for what I need._ "

Shuri tilts her head to the side. "I'm intrigued."

Steve relaxes, grateful for the switch back to English. "I need your help."

"I gathered."

"There's someone — a former Hydra assassin — that I'm trying to rehabilitate."

"The Winter Soldier."

Steve blinks. "Yes. How—"

"I keep on top of the news, Captain Rogers. Barnes, isn't it?"

Steve swallows. "Yes."

"What do you need?"

"He was brainwashed by HYDRA and our interventions aren't working anymore. He's important to me, to all of us, and we need help to help him heal. There's only so much we can do."

"What makes you think that I can help?"

"You're a certified genius. Smarter than Tony Stark, though don't tell him I said that."

Shuri laughs. "Well, you sure know how to flatter a girl."

"Bucky needs you. I need you. And I know you don't owe me anything, but I figure it couldn't hurt to ask. To try."

"What makes you think that I would help you?"

"I can't say that I know. But I know that you did once upon a time and I can only hope that you might again."

Shuri's frown deepens. "What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you if you agree to help Bucky."

Shuri tilts her head, contemplating the offer. She nods. "Very well. If your truth is interesting enough."

"Can I get that in writing?" Steve grins and shakes his head when Shuri raises an eyebrow. "Kidding." Then he straightens and meets her eyes head on. "I'm a time traveler. I'm here from a different future to make right what I couldn't the first time around. And last time, you helped me heal Bucky. You and your team."

Shuri narrows her eyes, "What was in it for me? Why help heal another broken white boy? There's so many other things that I could be doing with my time."

"At the time I daresay it was because your brother claimed that Bucky and I prevented him from becoming an internationally wanted criminal. This time around I'm hoping you'll do it for me and the information that I'm about to give you." Steve inhales and steels himself. "When the Accords go to a vote, your father must be prepared for an attack. In my timeline he was killed there, which led to your brother becoming the king before his intended time. They must both be careful and determine how they wish to proceed, knowing that there may be an attack."

Shuri's eyes narrow. "Is that a threat?"

"Not at all. In my time the Accords were used to try to wrangle the superhero community into submission. Your father had understandable opinions about that. It is, however, essential that some form of regulation for international operators be put in place sooner rather than later. We have a world to keep safe, and we may not be able to do much without knowing who has skin in the game."

Shuri contemplates him. "Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"That you're a time traveler. How did you do it?"

Steve gets slowly to his feet. "I have your word I won't be attacked? It's going to lead to an energy spike."

Shuri narrows her eyes. "We have ways of containing that."

"Not this kind of energy. Not this _much_ energy."

"Very well then," she says after a pause. She gestures to the Dora Milaje in the room to give Steve some space. "You may proceed."

Steve brings the Stones out of their pocket dimension, watching the way several of the monitors in the room start flashing red.

Shuri's eyes go wide. "It's certainly powerful. I can see how that might be enough to break the time-space continuum."

"Not break. Mold. It doesn't so much destroy existing timelines as create branching timelines. It's not a perfect science, but it seems to work well enough."

"I see." Shuri glances up to meet Steve's eyes. "I can't imagine you'd be willing to let me examine those."

Steve pulls the Stones away and shakes his head. "That is one thing I will not offer, Your Highness."

Shuri nods. "I can understand that. As for your little soldier friend, I can do some work on deprogramming him, but it is not something that can be broadcast to the world. You cannot tell anyone that this is where he is."

"I understand. I will need to make sure that that is agreeable to all parties, but I don't see why it wouldn't be."

"Then you have a week to prepare him and see him to Stark's private landing strip. We will collect him from there — no observers — and bring him back here to begin his rehabilitation."

Steve's chest twinges at the thought of not being able to be with Bucky when he went under, but he's too nervous to press. Bucky deserves a shot at this — at the kind of peace he'd enjoyed so briefly in Steve's original timeline — and if the cost is seeing him off alone, then that seems a small price to pay. "Understood. Thank you, Your Highness."

"Very good. Then we will be in touch."

Steve inclines his head, not going so far as to bow, knowing exactly how the Wakandan royalty feel about that. "You have my thanks."

* * *

Leaving Wakanda is easier than getting there, and Steve's back at the compound within eighteen hours. The hard part is going to be convincing Bucky, Tony, and Cap that this is a good idea.

He goes to Bucky first, remembering the way that he'd asked for that support the first time around. He remembers how much he had pushed against the treatment, wanting so badly to believe that he would be enough to heal Bucky. It seems arrogant now, and Steve is grateful for the chance to make that right for at least one Bucky if not all of them.

So he goes to Bucky first.

"Someone else to work on me? What, you really think that'll work?"

Steve shrugs. "It worked in my timeline. Granted this all happened a bit differently than it did that time, but it couldn't hurt to ask. 

"And you just went and asked them all by yourself."

Steve tries not to look sheepish. "I didn't want to offer it to you if it wasn't even an option."

"But it is? An option?"

"Only if you want it to be."

"I do. God, Steve, of course I do. I want this all to be over with more than I want to breathe."

Steve's heart aches. "Alright. You want me to set it up, then?"

Bucky's eyes go distant. "Check it with Stark before you send me off. I'll run it by Stevie."

Steve nods. "Sounds fair enough."

Tony is skeptical when he takes the information Shuri had sent Steve back with, but whatever he sees on the page seems to satiate his curiosity.

"I don't know how the hell anyone has tech this advanced and I don't know about it. And you're sure they won't let me come along?"

"They're very private, Tony."

Tony huffs. "Knowledge makes the world stronger. Dunno why they'd ever want to hide it."

"But you'll sign off on it? And send Bucky's old scans with him?"

Tony waves his hand absently as he reads through the paperwork again "'Course. I trust you to do what you think is best for Barnes, and if you think this is it, it's not my place to question it."

"Of course it is, Tony. You're the one that's been working on him for the last few weeks."

"And I know when I'm beat. There's only so much I can do when this isn't my area of expertise. If you have someone that's willing to make a difference and help him out, I can't say I want to fight you on that."

Steve swallows. It's the kind of easy concession he used to think he wanted from Tony all the time rather than welcoming it when it is freely given. _This_ is what he wants — the steady push-pull of the best days of their relationship, not the blind agreement that he once so craved from Tony. Steve's stomach twists and he has to swallow around the tightness in his throat. "Thank you."

Tony waves him off again, deep in thought again as he looks through Shuri's information. It's enough of a dismissal to have Steve turning to go check on Cap and Bucky. He's expecting a lot more pushback from Cap, which is why he'd been glad that Bucky had offered to run it by him first. At this point, though, the only thing left to do is go check with them and see what the final verdict is.

* * *

Cap isn't yelling when Steve makes it up to Bucky's rooms where the two of them are waiting, but what he’s doing is almost worse. Steve can see the hunch in Bucky's shoulders and the way Cap is looming over him, making use of his larger frame.

Cap's eyes cut over to Steve the second he walks in the room before narrowing. "No."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Is it really your call?"

"I'm not letting you take Bucky on some intercontinental joyride just because you think it might help."

"I know it can help. I saw it myself."

"You watched him? Watched what they did to him every day?"

"I didn't need to. Bucky trusted them and I trusted Bucky. That was all that I needed to worry about."

Cap searched his face, as though looking for another reason to argue. Steve wastes no time in filling the quiet with his own conviction.

"It's not your call anyway. It's Bucky's. If he wants to do this, he's the one that gets to decide that. He was just doing you the kindness of asking because that's who he is. I'll take him in a heartbeat if that's what he wants, regardless of what you say."

Cap takes three long strides to get into Steve's space. Steve stands his ground. "Listen here, _copycat_ , you don't get to waltz in here and make this world yours just because you fucked up the one you got the first time around."

Steve feels the muscle in his jaw twitch. Cap smirks as though he's just won, but Steve knows how to cut just as deep. "No need to thank me from saving you the pain that I had to live through. Really, I'm sure you would have been just as chipper as I was after you smashed Tony's chest plate wide open."

Cap recoils, his whole body moving in that way that makes it clear it's not intentional or controlled. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Steve's face feels rigid as it pulls back into a harsh smile. "That's none of your concern, since I saved your sorry ass from the same fate. Just be grateful that you have Tony to hang onto these days. God knows I lost my Tony way too soon." Steve turns to Bucky who looks nearly as stricken as Cap does. Steve swallows around the lump in his throat and nods. "There's a jet waiting whenever you're ready, Bucky." Steve turns back to Cap and nods once more, sharply, before turning on his heel and making his way back down to the lab. 

He may not have Tony the way he wants him, but at least he _has_ Tony. It always stings to be reminded that this might not even be what he deserves.

But this is what he has, what he's snatched from the clutches of a cruel multiverse, and Steve isn't about to ignore what that means to him or what he means to this version of Tony. He'd give a hell of a lot to keep every version of Tony safe, and if that means threatening the people most likely to harm him, he'll do so without a second thought.

Tony's still reading through the paperwork from Shuri as though trying to decipher as much as he can from it. Steve leans against the doorframe, watching Tony work with all the warmth in his chest that he's come to associate with him. When Tony looks up, he blinks twice at Steve before his face goes soft. Steve takes it as a welcome and makes his way into the lab.

Tony speaks as soon as Steve's settled on the couch across from him. "What did Cap say?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "He wasn't happy about it, but I imagine he'll come around. We've just gotta let Bucky work on him a little longer."

"And you're sure that will work?"

"As sure as I can be. Because if he doesn't agree, Buck's not likely to agree either. He still sees too much of their past in Cap, and I imagine he still sees Cap as the one who saved him from HYDRA. If Cap won't get his head out of his ass sooner rather than later, we may be up the creek without a paddle."

Tony's lips thin. "I'll work on him too if he's still going to be an asshole about it. I figure he might just not want to hear it from you."

Steve snorts. "That's fair." He looks back up at Tony. "And you're sure you're okay with it?"

Tony does a double take as though looking for some sort of answer to a question he hasn't asked. "I'm sure that it's what you think is right, and that will have to be enough for me for now."

Steve's chest clenches. "Thank you."

Tony just nods and goes back to the paperwork. "You're welcome."

* * *

In the end it only takes a little needling from Tony to convince Cap that this really is the right call. He lets Steve bring Bucky to Wakanda on one condition, which Steve presents to Shuri as soon as Bucky is in stasis.

"Captain America — the one from this timeline — would like to request permission to visit Bucky whenever possible."

Shuri purses her lips. "That was not part of the original deal."

"Nor is it a necessary one. It is simply a request."

Shuri hums as she searches his face. "You may bring him once, so that he can see the facility and assure himself that Barnes is being treated well. That is all I will allow."

Steve inclines his head. "I will make sure that he shows the appropriate restraint and judgment in your care."

Shuri points a finger at him, her eyes narrowed. "But no Stark."

Steve laughs. "Agreed. No Stark."

Shuri relaxes. "Good. Then we are in agreement." She holds a hand out for Steve to shake. He takes it in his, marveling that someone so brilliant is still so young.

He looks up and meets her eyes. "Until next time."

She nods and lets the Dora Milaje guide him back to the quinjet.

* * *

After that things start to fall into a rhythm around the compound. Steve takes Cap to Wakanda exactly once so that he knows Bucky is being well cared for, and that's that. Cap and Sam and the twins start taking on all sorts of work that once belonged to the realm of the Avengers. Nat and Rhodes stop by every so often, and Steve tries not to stare at the way Rhodes still walks with all the strength in his legs instead of Tony's tech. He shakes the thought off every time it comes, though; there’s no reason to dwell on mistakes that haven't come to pass here.

And through it all, Steve feels his love for Tony growing. It had been one thing to fall the first time around when he hadn't had the space or brain power to embrace what he felt. It had been another thing to fall when the loss of his Tony was still so fresh, watching another version of the man he loved (God, he _loves Tony_ ) stand tall and proud one lifetime ago while still mourning his own.

But it's another thing altogether to fall for a Tony Stark who has had time to live and breathe. A Tony who is still somewhat whole and still lets his hands dance with the magic of his technology. It's another thing to be given the chance to let his love for Tony grow stronger than it ever had the chance to before. This is what Steve has always wanted for Tony, even when he didn't realize it. To see it made real and whole before him is almost too much for him sometimes.

But he hangs onto the ember of love that he holds in his chest and lets the rest of the universe melt into nonexistence around him. In those moments, all that matters is that Tony is beside him, hale and hearty and whole. In those moments, Steve thinks this might be enough.

So when the Asgardians come with twice the numbers Steve remembers from New Asgard the first time around, Steve lets himself start to hope. If Thor was able to bring his people here without encountering Thanos, then maybe Thanos isn't as terrifying of a threat that Steve fears. That doesn't mean he doesn't check in on Stephen Strange as the clock ticks down to the inevitable moment that he fears is coming.

Steve broaches the topic with Thor about a month into the building of New Asgard. "Did you bring the Stones with you?"

Thor frowns. "I daresay my brother would have thought of that and brought them along. I was too preoccupied with my people. Shall I send for him?"

"Please do."

Loki produces both Stones that were once safely ensconced in Asgard. Steve stares down at the two Stones, Mind and Space, and wonders if they will be needed again.

Steve looks up at the brothers. "I would like to take them into Avenger custody. I have reason to believe that a dangerous force is coming to take them, and that it would be in our best interest to keep them safe and protected. I don't want your people in danger when I could have prevented it."

Thor glances at Loki in silent conversation before turning back to Steve. "I daresay you know more than you are letting on. Very well, we will allow you to protect them this time while we rebuild our strength."

Steve thanks them both and stays just a bit longer, taking his time with Thor and reacquainting himself with Valkyrie. When he finally leaves, though, it is not for New York.

It is for Wakanda.

* * *

Steve doesn't even have to request an audience with Shuri anymore. She comes out to meet the quinjet. When Steve produces the Mind Stone for Shuri, her eyes flash.

"This was not part of our deal."

"No," Steve agrees. "But I think it would be best to have three minds on the task of how to protect us from the Infinity stones rather than just two." Steve extends his hand. "It would be most appreciated if you would work on finding a way to defend against this kind of energy."

Shuri nods and accepts the Stone. "I will see what I can do."

Steve returns to the compound with the Space Stone. Steve can see the want lingering in Tony's features, and when he looks up, there's a hint of accusation in his face.

Steve holds the Space Stone out to him. "Would you rather I tempted you with the Mind Stone?"

Tony deflates. "No. No, I don't suppose I would." He reaches out and takes the Space Stone from Steve's grasp, turning it where it still resides in the Tesseract. "And you say there are more?"

"Five more. Three here on Earth."

Tony looks up at him sharply. "Three?"

"One with you, one with the people working to help Bucky, and one with a man named Stephen Strange. All three of you are experts in your fields, and I believe all three of you have the power to protect us from what comes, as long you take the time to learn about these Stones. If we can do that and work together when the time comes, we may actually survive what's coming."

Tony looks up at Steve, his face cast with the pale blue glow of the Stone. "I will, Steve. I'll do whatever I can."

* * *

The end comes sooner than Steve expects. Shuri has agreed to work with Tony on the question of how to utilize the Stones, and the two of them have gone more than once to try to convince Strange to join them. They have yet to succeed.

Which is why, when Strange arrives on the compound's metaphorical doorstep, Steve knows the time has come.

He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and finds the calm center of the storm in his mind. They have to get through this. They have to.

Steve brings Strange to Wakanda with him, where T'Chaka has refused to let them hold their last stand. Steve takes his time meeting with Shuri and Tony to ensure that he knows how to use the Gauntlet they've created.

"I'm coming with you," Tony insists as soon as Steve dons the Gauntlet on his right hand, opposite the one where the two Stones from his reality rest. "I'm not letting you do this by yourself."

"Absolutely not."

Tony's eyes flash and he stands up a little taller. He still barely comes up to Steve's chin. "I'm not going to let you leave me behind like some damsel in distress."

Steve closes his eyes. "That's not what this is and you know it, Tony."

"Then explain, because I won't stand by and do nothing when there's good work I can do to help people."

It's true. It's a truth that rings down to Steve's bones, and for all that he wants to argue and fight and lock Tony away from danger, he knows he'd never get away with it. He closes his eyes and turns away. "Alright. If you're sure."

Tony grabs his gauntlet-free hand. "I'm sure."

Steve doesn't let himself read anything more into those words.

The flight back to the States is quiet except for Tony calling on anyone and everyone he can think of that might be willing to assemble at the compound. When their radar picks up a ship on their tail, Steve can only guess that it's a rogue group of Dora Milaje following them at T'Challa's request. 

Strange calls on as many sorcerers as he and Wong can get ahold of, making sure they have whatever cavalry they can grant this battle. Thor agrees to bring as many of his people as are willing to fight alongside them. Through it all, Steve tries to remember that they have three Infinity Stones on their side, and if he can just time it all correctly, then they might just be able to make it through this in one piece.

The gauntlet is heavy on Steve's hand, but he does his best to ignore it as their armies gather around him. It feels wrong to be at the center of all this protection while he lets others fight his battles, but the only other option is to give Tony the Gauntlet. And that's not an option at all.

Thanos comes in all his blazing glory, dozens upon dozens of alien warriors at his beck and call as he prepares to lay waste to them all. The three stones in Steve's possession aren't enough to take him down, but if Tony and the others can successfully wrangle the two in Thanos' possession, then they might be able to even this fight out. All they need to do is get through the throngs of aliens and close enough to Thanos to divest him of his Infinity Stones.

Steve knows the odds on that better than anyone else.He can only hope that his luck will hold just this once.

The battle is terrible. It's loud and bloody and everything Steve has let himself forget again in his time with Tony here. For all that it hasn't been peace in its purest form, it has been calmer this time than he's been used to for much of his life. There's something to be said about slipping back into the bonds of battle, about taking what Erskine gave him and putting it to good use. It feels good. Better than he remembers it ever being before.

As the fight rages on, Steve follows the small contingent Tony had hand-picked for this part of the fight. Rhodes is there along with Wanda and Pietro, but so are Cap and Bucky. Steve doesn't bother to ask questions. He knows better than to ask where Tony's brilliance is concerned. They all make around the edge of the fighting, heading to the center of the battle. Heading to Thanos.

The plan is simple. Rhodes, Pietro, Cap, and Bucky are there to distract and fight Thanos while Wanda and Tony do whatever it takes to get the Stones he has away from him. Once they have the Stones, they'll bring them to Steve and he'll snap Thanos' forces out of existence. 

For all that Steve knows the power of each individual Stone, he's also seen what they can do together. He's seen how they tore Tony's body to shreds. The thought of living through that is terrifying, but Steve is willing to do anything to keep Tony safe. Still, he hopes Thanos doesn't have Soul yet. Handling six stones feels more intense than he can really imagine right now, especially if he wants to make sure Tony and the rest make it through this in one piece. Besides which, he still doesn't know how Tony managed it. His heart isn't as full as Tony's had been at the end there, his convictions not as strong. There are plenty of things that could go wrong in this final step, but Steve knows it won't matter in the end.

He'll keep Tony safe. He has to. That's why he's here.

Thanos laughs when they find him in the midst of the fight, his four minions already long gone into the greater battle. "You think you can really defeat me here? You and your puny force?"

Tony straightens, glaring at him. "We're damn well not about to let you go without a fight."

Everything is chaos after that. Steve watches as best he can, shouting at his teammates when they're in danger while ducking and dodging around Thanos' strikes himself. It takes a good five minutes for Wanda to get him the first Stone. 

The familiar pull of Reality slides over Steve's skin as he settles the Stone into his Gauntlet. He can feel his own Reality stone humming through his bones as though trying to connect with this one, but Steve holds them both at bay. This is what he's been training for. What he's been working toward. All he needs to do is wait for whatever else Wanda and Tony retrieve from Thanos for him.

Tony shouts Steve's name and he plucks the Power Stone out of the air to drop into his Gauntlet.

"Anything else?" Steve calls out.

"No," Tony says, sounding winded. "No, that's it. Go ahead and—"

In that moment, Thanos sprints across the space separating him from Steve. Steve doesn't let himself startle, immediately engaging him in hand-to-hand combat. Thanos meets Steve's efforts blow for blow. "You really thought it would be that easy?"

"No," Steve says, "but I figured we'd try anyway."

"And to think, all you've done is bring me one step closer to my goal."

Steve's mind catches up all too quickly. It's clear now that Thanos must have let Wanda and Tony steal his Stones so that they'd all be together before he stole them from Steve in turn. Steve glares up at him. "You think you can stop me? You have no idea what I'm made of."

"Don't I?" Thanos' grin goes a bit manic at the edges. He lifts Steve off of his feet by his wrists. "I think you're made of skin and bone, just like every other rebel I've ever met.

"And?"

"And I think I'll treat you the same way I've treated all of them over the years."

Steve sees Tony making a beeline for the two of them and knows what's going to happen a split second before it does. Thanos yanks the Gauntlet off of his hand and throws him aside, too far to make it back to the Titan in time. He still tries, still scrambles to his feet and sprints toward the center of the battle, but he already knows he's too late. Tony's snatched the Gauntlet from Thanos' triumphant hold, all five Stones in place in the Gauntlet, and Steve knows this story all too well.

"Tony, no!"

Tony glances over at him. It's a brief glance, his eyes wide as they take Steve in. But then his face falls and Steve knows that Tony doesn't need to be reading his mind to know what's about to happen. Tony slips the Gauntlet on, and snaps.

* * *

For a desperate moment, Steve wonders if the fact that there were only five Stones instead of six will save Tony. If maybe the lessened power will help him survive. For a desperate moment, Steve wants this to be enough.

Thanos' army is dissolving into dust around them, but Steve doesn't care. He only has eyes for Tony right now. 

Only Tony.

Steve reaches Tony before anyone else can, cradling his head in his lap. Tony certainly looks a little less burnt and broken than he had the first time around, but Steve can tell that the only difference it will make is how long Tony has to live. "Why the hell did you do that?"

Tony lifts one side of his mouth — the unburnt side — in what Steve thinks is supposed to be a smile. "Couldn't— Couldn't let him take them. Couldn't let him do here what he did to you."

Steve shakes his head. "That's not what I mean and you know it. Why didn't you let me do it?"

"No time. Had to— to get to him before he got to anyone else."

"Tony—"

Tony shakes his head and reaches out to take one of Steve's hands in his unburnt one. "Not gonna apologize, Steve. Did— Did what I had to do. I don't regret it."

"I wouldn't expect any less from you." The rest of their motley team has gathered around them, all of them seeming to understand what Tony's done. What Steve had intended to do. They don't say anything, though. They simply stand around them, silent observers of these their last words. "You've always done whatever it takes."

Tony closes his eyes and turns his head to press against Steve's stomach. "You still gonna go?"

"What?"

"Gonna go fix the multiverse?"

"Tony—"

"I can tell you want to. I just don't understand why."

Steve swallows down the desperate instinct to tell Tony that _he's_ the reason why. That all Steve wants is to live in a world where Tony gets to lead the long life he deserves all the way through to the end. Steve won't accept anything less. "Yes," he says. "I am. And if you haven't figured out why yet, you're not the genius I thought you were."

Tony nods, as though he knows more than he'd let on. "I see." He lifts a hand to wrap around Steve's left wrist, as though he can feel the Stones resting there. "Just be careful."

Steve swallows and nods. "I will, Tony. I swear it."

Tony chuckles, but the sound turns into a cough a moment later. "I don't believe you, but I sure hope you'll try."

Steve starts to say something, then remembers himself. He looks up at Rhodes who meets his gaze in turn, kneeling down to take Tony in his arms instead. Part of Steve wants to stay behind. Wants to stay at Tony's side until he breathes his last. But if he does, he knows he won't be able to leave until after the funeral, until after Tony's affairs have been settled, until after the whole world knows what he's done.

He can't afford the sentimentality.

Instead he folds himself into the group, slips into the background, and draws on his own set of Stones. This isn't what was supposed to happen. This wasn't the end Tony was supposed to meet. Not here. Not this lifetime.

If this still wasn't enough, then Steve's just going to have to try again. He's going to have to go back a little further. Dig a little deeper. Do something a little bit _more_ to give Tony the life he deserves.

He's not stopping here. Not yet. No way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go! We've just cleared the halfway point in the doc for this fic. I hope you all enjoyed!!


	12. Chapter 12

It isn't easy falling into line with expectations and understandings of the world in 2012. He tries to hide, tries to be discreet, but he's in New York on the day of the invasion, and he certainly isn't about to stand by and do nothing when there are people to be saved.

His comms crackle to life when Tony arrives on the scene, a reminder of the way Tony always styles his tech to be backwards compatible. No matter how new Steve's own comms are, they always work with older models too. Steve keeps his mouth shut, though, hoping Tony will write off the crackle of static as feedback from the aliens. Whatever it is that Tony thinks is going on, he doesn't say a word to Steve over the comms as he does everything he can to stop the Chitauri. Steve doesn't bother with all that; the shield was his best weapon, and without it there's little he can do to directly battle the invaders.

But saving civilians. That's something he can do.

Steve listens to the chatter over the comms with half an ear, too focused on keeping the people around him safe to pay attention to what's going on around him. It isn't until he hears his own voice utter those damned words that he realizes how long this battle has been going on.

"Stark. You know that's a one way trip."

Steve closes his eyes. It's too much, hearing the way he'd so callously ignored what Tony no doubt knew — the way he always seemed to know these things. He hadn't understood the first time around what this would do to Tony, hadn't understood how deeply and profoundly it would affect him. Even now, after lifetimes lived with the man after the fact, he still doesn't think he understands the true depth and breadth of the experience.

Not for the first time, Steve wishes he could bear some of that pain in Tony's stead.

Steve waits, completely still, and watches Tony disappear through the portal. He holds his breath, counting the seconds between Tony disappearing and the instant the Chitauri all go limp. Counting the heartbeats between that and the moment his own voice speaks through the comms.

"Close it."

God. Had he truly been so callous with Tony's life? Had he truly ever thought so little of the man? How could Tony ever have been anything less than everything? Anything less than the man he loves?

Steve stares, watching and waiting for the moment Tony's body reappears in the shy. The shock of relief is more than he'd felt the first time around. The realization that Tony's here, alive and whole, means more than he can even begin to comprehend. He closes his eyes and listens as Thor notices that Tony isn't slowing down, _feels_ the way he starts to swing Mjolnir to fly up into the stratosphere to save Tony. And then Bruce comes thundering to the rescue, saving Tony from falling to his death. Steve closes his eyes and listens to the sound of his other self ripping Tony's faceplate off, listens to Bruce yell life back into Tony's lungs. The banter that follows is easy, simple in a way that Steve had forgotten things ever could be with them.

"And then shawarma after."

Steve leans into the warmth and want in Tony's voice. He'd forgotten the way Tony could reach out for the people around him, the way he could pull them all into his orbit to be the best people they could be. This was their moment to shine, the moment when they could have changed their path. If only Steve had listened closer here and now. If only—

Steve shakes off the want. He's not here to wish. He's here to act. He's not going to be able to save Tony by staying out of the way and making light of all that they need to do in the time in between now and what's coming. He has six years to change Tony's path, six years to convince Tony that he's genuine in his intentions, to keep his other self off Tony's back, and protect Tony no matter what.

He waits until the beard has grown in enough to hide his appearance at the screening, and goes in with a pair of green contacts and the worst kind of ill-fitting clothes Tony had ever snapped at him about. Blazers that are loose at the shoulders and through the chest and pants that are loose over his ass. Not too loose, though they would be by Tony's standards. He and Tony had always had very different opinions of what constituted "too loose."

The screening agent frowns at him. "Well, if your references all check out, we should be able to get you on payroll in the next two weeks."

Steve nods. The Reality Stone had made up the fake papers without a problem; there's no reason to believe it won't do the same for the fake references it made up. Still, he sends a thought to the Stone to remind it of the importance of this mission, reminding it to keep up its end of the bargain. The Stone seems to respond in kind, although Steve is still trying to determine what the Stones' real intentions are.

Steve smiles and nods, thanking the screening agent. If he's going to be able to get close enough to Tony to keep him safe and out of the line of fire, it isn't going to be with a frontal assault on the whole area. It's going to be through back doors and quiet rooms and the spaces between all the lies. He makes his way through the room and out the door, allowing himself to tug at the edges of reality, pulling his name to the top of the agent's call list. If he thinks anything of it, the Stone will smooth that over.

Steve pauses three blocks down, his heart leaping to his throat. He'd sworn we wouldn't use the Stones so readily, so instinctively, and yet here he is, using the Stones on a whim.

It isn't a whim, though, he reminds himself. This is all part of the plan, the path to keep Tony safe. Whatever it takes to help him get out of this alive is all that matters. That's what this whole mission has been about. That's what Steve is here to do.

So he wraps himself up in the comfort of his purpose and lets the rest of it sort itself out in the meantime.

* * *

The apartment he finds is small. Furnished, and the WiFi is nothing like he's been used to ten years down the line. He's sure Tony could do something about that, but he isn't going to be in a position to ask Tony for anything any time soon. In the meantime, he's going to sit here and try to figure out what the hell is coming down the pipeline at SI that might allow him to ingratiate himself with the people in power. He doesn't know much about engineering, but he listened to just enough of Tony's chatter to be dangerous. Just enough to slip what little he does know into conversation with enough errors and uncertainty that someone would feel compelled to correct him. Enough to get him in with the people that he needs to be in with and make the world move in the direction that he wants it to move in. Tony's already Iron Man — how could he ever be anything else? — and Steve's role now is to make sure that nothing escalates to where it was before. Well. After. Ugh. Time travel.

There's so much to be done here that he has only so much power over, and there's a whole world between him and the end of days that he can postpone it. Maybe indefinitely. Maybe long enough for Tony to have the life he deserves. The life he's always deserved.

There's a melancholy there, an aching wound in his chest that leaves him raw and overstimulated in ways that can't even begin to be put into words. Steve can only do so much, but damn if he isn't going to do everything he can.

The call from SI comes three days later — long enough to be plausible but soon enough that Steve can start his plan to get into all the points of power at SI quickly. All the better to protect Tony. He knows he'll run into some hiccups with Happy working the security angle, but at least it will give him enough mobility to make things happen the way he wants them to. The way he needs them to. Anything to keep Tony safe. That's the goal in all things. Keeping Tony safe.

Steve dresses the part for the first day at work. Dark suit, sunglasses, full beard. Discrete and imposing in the same moment. It's a low level security gig, but it's enough to get him in the building, to get a foot in the door. That's got to count for something.

The moments when he gets to watch Tony slip in or out of the building may be the most precious of all.

Steve's been working at SI for a month before Tony seems to finally notice him. Or, at least, that’s when Tony first reaches out to contact him. There's something to be said for olive branches, and Steve knows that isn't what it is but it feels that way. Steve doesn't initiate contact when Tony's eye catches on his from across the lobby, just nods in acknowledgement. Tony's eyebrow pops up at that. He turns to Pepper at his shoulder and says something to her in a low enough voice that Steve can't hear it from across the lobby. Pepper's lips thin and she shakes her head at him, though the expression is all fond exasperation. Tony smiles back, kissing her temple before making his way across the room toward Steve. Steve looks away, the idea that things might fall into place this soon too much to reconcile. It isn't until Tony's a few feet from him that it occurs to Steve that he doesn't have a cover story prepared, and if Tony recognizes him—

"Rogers?"

Too late. The surprise in Tony's voice is enough to have Steve wincing. "Stark."

Tony recovers quickly enough. "If you needed cash, I'm sure SHIELD could have provided."

Steve flinches away. "It's not like that."

Tony raises an eyebrow at the defensiveness in Steve's voice. "I didn't mean it like that. You're welcome to do whatever you want to do with your life. I just think you're meant for better than security."

Steve relaxes. "You have no idea."

Tony leans in, squinting at the beard. "Was that horrendous thing a choice or an attempt at a disguise?"

"A little bit of both, I guess?" Steve says with a laugh. "I can't say I thought anything of it, honestly. I've had one before and it worked perfectly fine as a disguise."

Tony pulls back, his face immediately going shuttered. "Come again?"

Steve blinks, trying to figure out what mistake he'd made. Oh. 2012. He's supposed to have just woken up, and he certainly never let himself be caught on camera with a beard during the war. He winces.

Tony steps back even further, hand going to his pocket for his phone. Steve takes a deliberate step back.

"I'm not here to hurt you."

Tony snorts. "Right, which is why you somehow look exactly like one of the other Avengers, one of the few people I trust, and infiltrated my company."

"Wait. You trusted me?"

Tony's face goes dark. "Get out," he says, pointing at the door to the Tower. "Get out."

Steve clenches a hand in a fist. "Tony, I swear, whatever it is that you think this is, it isn't that."

"How do you know?"

Steve tries to keep the urgency out of his voice when he speaks. He fails. "Because unless you think I time-traveled here from a darker future to undo every mistake I made between now and then, it's not what you think."

Tony's face freezes, uncertainty and confusion on his face. "Excuse me?"

"I'm a time traveler, Tony. I'm here so that everything that happened to my version of you doesn't happen to this version of you."

Tony's gaze flicks back and forth between Steve's eyes. Something clicks behind them, and he nods. "I'll be back from this meeting at seven. Meet me out front and we can talk."

Steve doesn't quite gasp at the ease of Tony's acceptance. He nods, certain that nothing will keep him from Tony tonight. "I'll be there."

Tony stares at him levelly for a moment longer before he nods, goes up on tiptoe to press a kiss to Steve's temple, and whispers "Don't be late," against his ear.

Steve waits until Tony pulls back to give a single, sharp nod in response. "I won't."

Tony smiles. "Then I'll see you at seven." He turns on his heel and makes his way across the lobby toward where Pepper is still waiting for him, her face torn between amused and exasperated. Steve doesn't need his enhanced hearing or ability to read lips to know that she's sassing him about the harassment policy once he makes it back to her side. It warms Steve's chest to remember that Pepper is and always has been Pepper. Tony's had her by his side the whole time, standing strong and tall beside him, and that means so much more to Steve than he can even begin to say.

Tony isn't alone, and that's the most important part.

Steve finishes his shift and heads home long enough to shower and change into something a bit more casual. If he wants and hopes that something like friendship might come out of tonight, well, that's no one's business but his own. If the button-down is nicer than just about anything else in his wardrobe, at least he didn't grab it brand new. That would be showing his hand just a bit much.

So Steve makes his way back to the Tower, heart in his throat, wondering about the damage and the clean-up process that is still happening. There's a hell of a lot left to do, and Steve remembers all too vividly just how badly damaged the penthouse was right after Loki's attack. It's not that he wonders whether or not Tony will invite him up so much as that he hopes he might get to see how far along the repairs are. Just so he knows if Tony's still in any danger. That's all.

Steve's lounging outside the Tower, wondering just how long it will be before Tony comes back, when a sleek black limo pulls up in front of the building. Steve tries not to straighten or move as if he'd noticed that in particular, lest Happy get anxious about the stranger in front of the Tower, but Tony slides out easy as anything and waves Happy off from following him out.

"He's a friend, Happy. Don't worry about it."

"If you say so, Boss." Happy waits until Tony's turned to Steve before he makes a motion with his hand to signal that he's got his eye on Steve. Steve nods once in acknowledgement rather than try to point out that there's very little Happy could do against him if Steve set his mind to trying to stop him. No need to alienate one of Tony's best friends.

"So," Tony says as he makes it to Steve's side, all smiles as he winds an arm through Steve's proffered one. "Tell me more about this terrible future you need to prevent."

Steve looks away, heart in his throat. "Do we have to start with that?"

Tony hums, squeezing Steve's arm. "Where would you prefer to start, then?"

"Maybe with you. With how you're doing since the invasion."

Tony's quiet as he keys them into the Tower. He tugs Steve along, and Steve goes easily, willing to follow wherever Tony will lead. "I've been better," Tony says as they enter the elevator.

"But you've been worse too."

Tony hums.

"Not since Afghanistan, though."

Tony blinks and looks up at him. "How'd you know?"

Steve smiles, small and brittle. "You thought you were going to die, Tony. You saw the vastness of space and understood it in a way that none of the rest of us ever have. Understood what's out there waiting for us. You've always been the visionary among us. That doesn't stop with this."

Tony looks away. "I see. So there really is more out there that's coming for us."

Steve doesn't bother denying it.

Tony closes his eyes. "How bad is it going to get?"

"Bad," Steve concedes. "It's going to get bad, Tony. But there's still a hell of a lot left to do before we get there."

"Like what?"

"Like try to save what's left of the world. There are terrible things moving behind the scenes, Tony, and we need to do what we can to stop them or they will overcome us completely."

Tony's face goes grim. "There's always someone moving the pawns behind the scenes. I know Fury's got plenty that he's watching out for."

"Fury's got vipers under his nose that he can't seem to see. We need to do a hell of a lot more than we've planned on doing if we're going to keep this planet and the rest of the universe safe from what's coming."

"The universe?" Tony shivers. "Not sure I'm up for all that right now."

Steve laughs, but there's no mirth in it. "Yeah, I can't say I'm surprised about that."

Tony closes his eyes. "Tell me it's worth it."

"What?"

"This life. This future you've come to repair. Tell me that battling for all that is worth it."

"It is." There's no hesitation in Steve's voice. "The future is more than I can even begin to say, Tony, and I promise you, it's worth it."

Tony takes a long slow breath. He lets it out just as slowly. "Alright, then. I'll take your word for it."

Steve reaches out, squeezing Tony's elbow. "It's worth it, Tony. That's why I came back."

Tony nods just as the elevator door opens up to the penthouse floor. Tony slips his arm from where it's still wrapped in Steve's and steps out of the elevator. Steve follows Tony out, already missing the warmth and the closeness. "Tell me something about the future. Something about what makes it worth it."

Steve smiles. "Nice try, Tony. I'm not going to give my secrets away that easy."

Tony looks at Steve over his shoulder, wrinkling his nose. "Come on, Steve. Throw me a bone."

Steve laughs again, some of the tension of the last few weeks bleeding out of his shoulders. "Nope. You're got plenty to think about yourself if we're going to do what needs to be done in this whole adventure."

Tony huffs, blowing a stray strand of hair off his forehead. "Alright. Then at least tell me what mistake was so terrible that you had to invent time travel to undo it."

"I didn't invent time travel," Steve says without thinking. "You did."

Tony stops short, hand halfway to the bottle of scotch on the shelf. He takes a moment before turning to Steve with confusion on his features. "Come again?"

Steve stops short, his brain replaying the last fifteen seconds and cringing. No use trying to backtrack now. "You invented time travel, Tony. Not me."

Tony stares at him for a long moment, blinking slowly. Then he shakes his head and turns back to the scotch, reaching for it fully and pulling it off the shelf. "Well of course _I_ invented it, Steve, I didn't mean _you_ you, I meant, like the royal you."

Steve smiles. "There's no such thing as the royal you, Tony."

Tony's hand shakes as he pours himself a tumbler of scotch. "You know what I meant, Rogers."

"I do. And you know what I meant."

Tony stays quiet. staring down into the scotch in his tumbler. Steve steps up close enough that he can see the way Tony's eyes fall closed in a quiet sort of pain.

"What is it?"

"I just. That's not something I ever would have thought I would mess with. I would have thought…" He shakes his head. "I don't understand."

"It was bad, Tony. I don't want to tell you why or how bad or any of that, but you need to know… it got bad. And this was the only option we could come up with."

Tony swallows. "And it worked?"

"We did what needed to be done. _You_ did what needed to be done. That's all that matters."

"So it didn't work."

"Not right away. And not the way we wanted it to. But it worked, Tony. It worked."

Tony's hand is still shaking when he lifts the glass to his lips and takes a sip. He swallows quickly, and Steve's eyes catch on the way his throat works.

"Tony," he says. "It worked out. We did what needed to be done."

"You keep saying that. You haven't told me what it cost."

 _Everything_ , Steve doesn't say. _It cost everything._ "It cost more than I wanted it to," Steve concedes. "But that's why I came back. To try to keep those terrible things from happening again. I need to stop them, Tony, and I need your help. Your help and your trust, if this is going to work."

Tony scoffs. "My help? Big man in a suit of armor, isn't that what you called me?"

Steve winces. "I did. And I regretted it every day after. You were never just anything, Tony, never a man less than any other. You were the most powerful and more brilliant of all of us. We'd have been dead ten times over without your courage and your confidence. You're the earth's best defender. You're the most important person on this whole planet for keeping it safe, and no one in the future would ever even think of denying that. You don't understand how important you are in the future, Tony. I just need to make sure everything does go according to plan this time."

Tony turns to meet Steve's eyes head on, meeting him as he pointedly takes another sip of scotch. "That so?"

Steve nods.

"So. I die, then?"

Steve's heart stops. "What?"

"That's why you came back, right? I'm dead?"

"What would make you think that?"

"You keep talking about how important or special or whatever I am, but you won't say anything other than that. I'm not an idiot, Steve. I've always known the suit was a ticking time bomb. Just tell me the truth. Do I die?"

Steve stares at Tony head on, trying to find the courage to lie to Tony. It doesn't come. The tangled web of lies he used to fall back on with Tony has never done him any good. Why would it serve him now? There's no reason to lie to him now. Never again.

"Yes."

Tony nods, the light going out of his eyes. "Okay. We can work with that."

"Tony—"

"You don't look all that much older than my Steve, so it must be soon. They're coming, then?"

Steve stares at Tony.

"The aliens," Tony prompts. "The aliens are coming?"

Steve swallows. Nods.

Tony's lips go, somehow, even thinner. "I see. And they're coming for us?"

"For something we have."

"The Tesseract."

"Among other things."

Tony's eyes go wide. "There are more of those things?"

Steve's lips quirk up in a half-smile. "Unfortunately."

"All as powerful?"

"In different ways."

Tony scrubs a hand through his hair and runs it over his face, grimacing at the product on his hand as he pulls it away. "Huh."

Steve swallows. "Tony, you have to know—"

"I know, there's plenty of shit you think you can't tell me. I get it. Just let me know what you think you can tell me and don't lie to me and we'll be okay."

Steve swallows again, nodding quickly. "I can do that."

Tony nods in return, drifting to the middle of the living room and staring out through the newly repaired windows out over the city, lit up in the night as it always is. "How long do I have?"

Steve closes his eyes. "We can change things, Tony. This isn't set in stone."

"You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. But if I have to die to let you live, Tony, you can be damn sure I'll do it."

Tony's shoulders slump. "That's not what I want, Steve. That's not what I want at all."

"Tony—"

"No, Steve. If this is what I'm supposed to do— die to save the universe, then I'll do it. If I have to prove myself to you again, if I have to do this again, I will. If you know me at all—"

"I do, Tony. I know you so much better than either of us gave each other credit for. I know you'd lay down on a wire for anyone in a heartbeat. You'd do whatever it took to get everyone else out safe no matter what. I know that. But that doesn't mean I want that for you and—" He stops himself before he says anything about Morgan or Pepper or any of the rest of the life Tony still has in front of him. He doesn't dare tell Tony what's coming because he doesn't dare run the risk of it not coming true. Of letting Tony down. "I know, Tony."

Tony's eyes are wide and confused as he stares up at Steve. Steve isn't sure when he moved so close to Tony, so quick and so certain that he needed to be near him. All he knows is that he's here now. "Rogers—"

"I know, Tony."

Tony swallows. Steve can see the way his throat works on the movement. "Okay," he croaks out. He clears his throat. "Okay," he says a little stronger that time. "Then let's talk about what exactly it is that we have to stop."

Steve turns away at that. "You know more about the theory of this than I ever did, Tony. It was you and Nat and Bruce that figured it all out. I wasn't the mastermind behind all the science, I was just the tactician." He stops himself before he can say something like _That's all I've ever been_.

Tony seems to hear it anyway, if the way his eyes flash is any indication. He doesn't say anything though, sweeping aside and away as he focuses on whatever is in front of him next. "Alright. So what is it that you want to know?"

"How much control do we really even have over the flow of time and the future? What can we do to make this world be what it's supposed to be? If I want to stop things from ending up the way they did in my future, how much do I need to tell you?"

"That depends. You could tell me nothing. The most probable outcome of that option is that you don't change anything because you're just living things out exactly the same way. You could tell me everything. The most probable outcome of that is things become wildly different in ways that neither you nor I could ever predict. Could make things better, but it could just as likely make things worse."

"Worse than what I lived through?" Steve shakes his head.

Tony's eyes on him are sharp. "What if the threat came sooner, Steve? Before we were ready? What if it doesn't come at all and we become the threat instead?" Steve shudders at that thought, wishing it were further from the truth. "Time is fluid, Steve, and not something to be meddled with on a whim."

Steve doesn't need to look to know that Tony's turning his most piercing stare on him. He stands up a little taller in defiance. "It's not a whim."

Tony lifts his tumbler to his lips again, taking a slow drink. "If you say so."

"I do."

Tony nods. "Then that's how I'm going to take it. But if there's things I need to know—"

"There are. I just don't know what they are."

Tony turns away, seeming defeated. "Alright. Then let's talk strategy."

"It isn't an all-or-nothing situation," Steve agrees. He leans back against a barstool, crossing his arms over his chest. The shirt is tighter than he remembers it being. He uncrosses and recrosses his arms, hoping to lessen the tension. All that serves to do is bring Tony's eyes back to him, focusing specifically on his chest. Steve only just manages not to curl in on himself defensively. "We just have to figure out what it is that I need to tell you and what it is that you don't need to know."

"You know me," Tony says with a self-deprecating grin. "I just want to know everything."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You know how to work in moderation when pushed that far."

Tony chuckles. "I suppose I do."

Steve looks away. There's a warmth in his chest, a comfort and familiarity to being so close to Tony that pulls the rug out from under him and leaves him unbalanced and breathless. It's too much, too close, too many feelings to make this be what he needs it to be. What he wants it to be.

He puts the thoughts aside and listens to Tony. "So, the way I see it, there are two options. We can start with the end — you telling me exactly why you came back — and then we brainstorm how to fix it."

Steve closes his eyes, heart in his throat. The vision of Tony, Gauntlet on his hand as he snaps his fingers and saves the world is too close, too deep and desperate in his chest to deny. "Not happening."

Steve can feel Tony's eyes on him, searching and assessing. "The other option is we start from the now." Tony's voice is softer now, gentle and warm in a way that stirs something in Steve's gut. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, swallowing around the thickness. "You start with what you wish could — or would have happened in this moment in your timeline and then we see how things spiral from there."

"An experiment?"

"An experiment," Tony agrees. When Steve is brave enough to open his eyes and meet Tony's, there's a gentle sort of understanding in them. "To see what elements of the timeline are fixed points and what elements can even be changed."

"What kind of fixed points?"

"Time travel is a complicated thing, at least at this point in time. I'm sure I've got it all figured out in the future, but now…" Tony shakes his head. "Some people theorize that there are events in the universe that are fixed. Ones that can only come to pass in a certain way, or at a certain time, or else the course of the entire universe will be thrown off-course. There are theories that the timeline has certain anchor points on it, so to speak, that cannot be changed, moved, or otherwise altered."

"You believe that?"

Tony looks away. "I'd like to think it isn't that way, but I'm not a time traveler. You'd know better than I would about all that."

Steve snorts. "Me? Know anything about time travel?" He shakes his head. "It's not like that at all."

Tony huffs. "You said someone invented it."

"You."

"Then I must have told you something. I must have tried to make you understand."

Steve scoffs. "You gave up on that long before time travel was even on the table, Tony." Steve doesn't mean to sound so bitter when he speaks.

Tony's quiet. Steve wants to take the words back, swallow them down into his belly and pretend that they'd never existed. He can't, though. Not in this timeline. Not this time around. "I find it hard to believe that I would ever give up on you, Rogers."

"Tony—"

"Your arrogance is even worse than mine, and you're damn stubborn, but I'd never give up on you. Not when you're—"

Steve gives Tony a moment to think and collect himself before he pushes. "Not when I'm what?"

Tony's hand has started shaking again where it's wrapped around the tumbler. The ice rattles against the glass, and he downs the rest of the drink before he sets it down hard on the counter in a vain attempt to pretend he hadn't just been shaking like a leaf. "It doesn't matter. If you think I'd ever give up on you, either you did something to deserve it or I never really did."

Steve chuckeles. "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you just finally realized I really am everything you thought I was before. That everything special about me really did come from a bottle."

Tony shakes his head. "I didn't mean that anymore than you meant what you said. It was the staff talking, not us."

"It was a little bit us."

Tony turns to look at him. "Do we ever talk about that? In your future. Do we ever clear up what all that pent-up anger was about?"

Steve shakes his head. "No. We tried once or twice, but we just ended up fighting all over again. Too many wounds. Too much distance. It never worked out the way either of us wanted it to."

Tony stares into Steve's eyes, as though trying to parse some seeper, hidden meaning in them. He sighs and looks away. "Alright, then. Let me tell you the truth. I didn't believe any of what I said to you, because for all that Dad may have spent more time and energy trying to find you than he ever did on me, I always knew he must have had a reason. I watched all your old newsreels. I saw the way you led your men. Your team. And out there with you — the other you, I guess, — during the invasion, I knew I could count on that. On you. I knew I could count on you to lead us right. You've always been that man, Steve. The leader of the rest of us. I don't doubt at all that you always will be that man. So know this; if I ever doubted you, it was only out of fear and doubt about myself, never about any sort of doubt about you."

Steve swallows. It's not the words he wished he would hear, not the thing he'd hoped to hear through all of this, but it's damn close. It's Tony, meeting his eyes, telling him that he's worth what Steve has always hoped he would be worth in Tony's eyes — more than the serum, more than his limitations, more than what he is because of Erskine and Howard and Peggy. In that moment Steve knows that, through it all, Tony can see to the core of him and value that man regardless.

And for the moment, it seems like maybe he can.

"Thank you."

Tony shrugs and turns away, tapping the fingernails of his right hand over the arc reactor on his chest. "Whatever. Just take the night, I guess. Figure out what you want to tell me. I'll tell them to keep you on payroll." He turns and looks over his shoulder. "James, though? Really?"

Steve's throat goes tight. "Best friend," he allows.

Tony's face goes soft and knowing. "Ah. I see." His face clears slightly. "I'm sure you know this already, but that's my best friend's name too."

Steve smiles, though he feels it dim at what his arrogance had cost James Rhodes in his own timeline. "I know. Great man."

Tony smiles. "Yeah. He is, isn't he?"

Steve nods. It's more than he thought he'd say in this moment, more of a reminder of the best friends he'd left behind than he wanted to give, but it's something. Something more than the last five years have given him. He's lost Tony already, and maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay; yesterday was A Whole Ass Day and I completely forgot to post this. Hope you enjoy!!

Any hope Steve had of being able to convince Tony to be careful or caution him against security breaches is dashed the next morning when he comes face to face with himself. Steve's in the Tower and halfway up to the coffee shop in the lobby before he catches sight of Cap. The sight is exhausting even before Steve has said a single word his past self. Steve remembers enough about the burnt and boiling rage that had sat, simmering in his chest for those first long weeks after they'd woken him from the ice. He can see it in this doppelganger's eyes, in his face, in the way he stands like a desperate, wounded animal.

It hurts, remembering those feelings. Seeing himself in that state, even so far removed from that pain himself. He hasn't thought of Peggy as more than a reminder of what it means to be a good man in ages, has had Bucky returned to him more than once, and though there's nothing for this version of him to know that that's coming, Steve himself knows that it's out there, which gives him some cold comfort.

"Cap," he says, voice low and level. He doesn't break stride.

It's no surprise when his doppelganger grabs him by his collar and hauls him close. Steve rolls his eyes at the indiscriminate show of strength, feeling far less charitable than he might once have.

"Who are you, and what do you want?"

Steve sighs. "What, you mean Tony didn't tell you that part?"

"I'm not sure I'm inclined to believe much Stark says. I prefer to do my own research."

"Yeah, I suppose I would have."

Cap shakes him. "Cut the crap. What the hell's going on?"

"I'm here to keep you from fucking up the best relationship you could possibly have wanted here in the future, alright?"

Cap drops him, reeling back like he's been struck only to lift his fist and attempt to strike Steve squarely between the eyes. Steve sees it coming, but only just, ducking so that the punch doesn't do more than send a gust of air through his hair. Cap swears, and Steve wastes no time punching him square in the solar plexus, winding him.

"Don't get up," Steve says as he drops Cap to the floor.

"Well damn." Steve whips around at the sound of Tony's voice. "Guess you might be the real deal after all."

Steve squints at Tony. "Come again?"

"You took Cap out without batting an eye. That's not an easy thing to accomplish."

"You've known him for two weeks, Tony."

Tony laughs, something warm and bright in the sound that twists Steve's stomach. "If you really know me, you know that's not true."

Steve frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Tony blinks. "Damn. I never told you?"

Steve's heart twists. "Told me what?"

"You were kind of my idol when I was a kid. I mean, up until my old man ruined you for me, always comparing—" Tony cuts himself off. "Aunt Peggy used to tell me all about you. Things I don't think she told anyone else." Tony looks down at where Cap is lying, prone on the floor, a thoughtful look on his face. "They both made you out to be larger than life. Guess you really are as crazy as they said."

Steve bristles at that, but before he can get a word out, Tony laughs and waves him off.

"I don't mean anything bad by it," he says. "Just that only someone really invested in what's right would have jumped into a time warp to try to save someone he hates."

Steve's chest constricts. "I don't hate you, Tony. I never have."

"That's not what you were saying on the helicarrier two weeks ago."

"That wasn't me talking and you know it."

Tony shrugs. "How do I know something this version of you never had the balls to tell me?"

The fury curls in Steve's gut before he realizes that's Tony's play. Trying to get Steve riled up, trying to get under his skin. That's always been Tony's play. And it's worked before. This time, though. This time Steve has to put his foot down and give Tony everything he never gave him the first time around.

"Then I'm telling you now. I don't hate you. I never did. You scared the shit out of me at first, the way you were so big and brave and gracious. You were so much more than anyone I'd known, even more than Howard, more than the way I saw the world. You were everything that terrified me about the future, everything that was strange and distant and wrong. Everything that I didn't want to accept was my new reality.

"But it was never about you. It was about the world I was in, the place I'd come into. This is what I was unwilling to accept. You were just a symbol of all the things I didn't want to believe were real. You weren't the reason. The world was."

Tony tilts his head to the side, considering Steve as he does so. There's something here, something deep in his eyes and Steve doesn't know how to decipher, and there's no way the world could be anything but what it's always been. There's so much here, so much more, and yet… and yet.

"Hmm. Is that so?"

Steve shrugs. "It's the truth, and that's all I can give you."

Tony sighs and rolls his eyes before turning to make his way closer to Cap's prone body. "Well, help me get him up to the penthouse."

Steve shakes his head and steps forward.

"Bring him up, will you?"

Steve chuckles. "If you say so, boss." The word slips past his lips without meaning to, the ease with which he says it altogether too much. He winces, but tries to cover it by leaning down and tending to his doppelganger. He slings one of his arms over his own shoulders and looks up to meet Tony's eyes.

Tony's face is pulled in a grin, something warm and wanting and certain in his face. Steve swallows the heat that tugs in his belly at the expression. He looks away first.

Tony doesn't seem to mind. He walks along in front of Steve, step easy and measured and completely ignoring the way the whole lobby is staring at them in varying levels of disbelief. Steve tries to do the same, but he's never been as blasé as Tony, He keeps his head down as best he can and tries not to let the growing panic in his chest overwhelm him. Tony wants something, planned this, Steve doesn't doubt that. Tony never does anything by halves, never shies away from what the world expects of him, from the way the world pressed in against his skin. He's always been stronger than Steve was when it came to being what he needed to be, and this… this must be no exception.

Tony glances at him over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. "I can hear you thinking from here, Rogers. Calm down. It's not gonna be anything you can't handle."

Steve swallows and stands up a little straighter. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. Tony nods and turns away, his lips still turned up in a tiny smile. Steve ignores the punch of warmth through his belly at the ease of the expression. It's steady and easy and there's nothing for it but to lean into what Tony expects. It's all Steve has been able to do for years, anyway.

* * *

Tony waves off Steve's attempts at communication while they wait for Cap to wake up. It doesn't take long, but every minute feels like a minute lost to potential explanations and understandings. Steve tries not to let it hurt that Tony doesn't trust him enough not to have his counterpart involved in the conversation, but he doesn't want to risk alienating Tony so soon. So he sits and waits and lets Tony flit through the penthouse with all the ease and grace that he's always had.

When Cap does wake, switching immediately from unconsciousness to alertness, Steve knows what's coming before it does. He dodges the punch and deflects the kick and waits until Tony's shouting penetrates his counterpart's mind. He doesn't fight back and that just as much as Tony's shouting might be what breaks through Cap's haze. Even when Cap finally pulls back, eyes darting from Tony to Steve and back again, Steve doesn't let down his guard until Cap turns to Tony with a question in his eyes.

"He says he's you," Tony says by way of explanation.

"And you, what, just believed him?"

"Come on, Steve, you've gotta admit the resemblance is uncanny."

"And how do you know it isn't just some other magic trick Loki or one of his goons is pulling on you?"

Tony raises an eyebrow at that. Steve bites his lip, ready for Tony's breakdown of why that idea is completely impossible. "First of all, I'm disappointed that you think my security system wasn't immediately updated in the wake of Loki's attack. We have a ping on everything that even resembles the energy signature his staff gave off, I can assure you of that. Second, I am insulted that you think I would bring someone in here that I thought even had a chance of being dangerous to you, let alone bringing you into the same space as them if I wasn't completely sure of your safety. And third, the man looks, acts, and even talks like you, and you want me to sit here and pretend that I don't want you to check that he really is exactly what he says he is? You're the leading authority on Captain America and there's no one else that I trust over you to make this call. So, if you can really talk to him and you still don't trust that he is who he says he is, I'll kick him to the curb. You know that as well as I do. But in the meantime, there's a chance he really is here to save us from ourselves, and it would be unreasonable, irrational, and unacceptable for us not to honor what he says he's here to do."

Cap blinks up at Tony. For his part, Steve can't shake the warmth in his chest at Tony's conviction. There's so much there, so much here that he needs to honor and validate and value, but at the moment the only thing that matters is Cap giving his vote of confidence so that Steve has the opportunity to stay here at Tony's side. So he looks over at Cap and is met by his own steely-eyed gaze. There's a quiet sort of certainty in his features that says he wants nothing to do with this, wants to be back on his bike riding through America, through the country that he purports to protect, through the land that gives him its faith and confidence and trust.

"I know why you left." Steve doesn't mean for the words to slip out, but they do Cap jerks, startling and turning to face him with his eyes going wide.

"What?"

"I know why you left," Steve says again, "and I know it's where you'd rather be right now."

Cap shakes his head. "My team comes first."

"But they don't feel like your team yet, do they? They're not the Commandos, they're not Peggy, they're not… they're not Bucky."

Cap startles, looking like Steve's shot him rather than just stated what is, to him, an obvious conclusion. "The hell are you talking about?"

Oh. Right. This Cap doesn't know that Bucky's still alive. It must seem a cruel strike to remind him of his best friend, dead and gone now in a way that, for him, is still permanent.

Steve glances over at Tony, whose eyebrow is quirked up in a small, knowing look that sets Steve's teeth on edge. Not with Tony, but with himself.

He looks back over at Cap. "I get it. It's all still so fresh. They feel like they've only been gone a few weeks when to the rest of the world they've been gone years. I remember how jarring that was. The way they looked at you like you were the answer to all their problems. Like you were the salvation you never wanted to be. You just wanted to serve. Just wanted everyone to treat you the way they treated everyone else. You didn't want to be a symbol or anything like that. You just wanted to serve."

Cap's eyes are wide and stormy, unclear and uncertain in that way that Steve thinks he should be used to by now. He isn't, not by a long shot, but there's a part of him that wishes he was.

"But that's not what you were ever going to get. This is who you are, what the world has given you, and there's nothing you can do about the path they've put you on. You have two choices. You can lean into it, or you can run from it. It's up to you, but from where I'm sitting, that's all you can do. Unless," he adds, turning to look at Tony with a wry sort of smirk, "our resident genius can see a third option."

Tony startles, as though he'd forgotten himself that he was in the room with them. He taps his fingers on the arc reactor, the sound grabbing at something in Steve's gut in a way he'd forgotten it could. It's been so long since he heard it that it shocks something in his chest that he'd forgotten Tony could get to. "I mean, you could always switch places."

Steve blinks. "Come again?"

"Just for a little while. Let Cap over there do his lone ranger routine, wander the country, see the sights, while you stay here and protect New York. Help with clean-up. You know, all that good stuff."

Steve blinks, then chuckles a little. Just like Tony to find another option when no one was really, _truly_ looking. He looks down at his hands. "Maybe," he says softly. He looks up at Cap. "Not really my call, is it?"

Cap raises an eyebrow. "No, not really." There's a moment of icy silence before Cap shakes his head and smiles ruefully up at Tony. "You really trust him?"

"You don't?"

Cap shrugs. "Don't trust much of anyone outside the team at this point."

Steve gets a visceral sense-memory of the first time they sent Loki off to Asgard with the Tesseract and the way Bruce had rolled off in Tony's car with him. To see Tony here alone, now, makes him wonder how long that had lasted even in his world. He knows, now, in a way he hadn't back then, just how much Tony relies on the people around him, the way he relies on them and they on him. It aches to think that he might have been without Bruce so soon after the trauma of the Battle of New York.

But then, Pepper had been there for him, hadn't she? She'd always been the one in Tony's corner when the rest of them couldn't hack it. Or wouldn't, in Steve's case. They may have always been off and on but they were there for each other, respected one another in the way that so few people really respected Tony. The way so few people actually saw Tony. Pepper had never been one of those people. She'd always seen through to the core of Tony and cared for him more than anyone else could ever have asked or expected her to. She saw him and loved him and Steve—

Steve never could have compared to that.

He looks away, half-listening as Cap and Tony hash out details of what it would mean for Steve to stay there, what it would mean for the city, for Cap's reputation, for what any of them are responsible for and what the world will think of them. It doesn't mean a damn thing to Steve. All he wants is to stay near Tony and keep him safe. It's the only thing that he's wanted for the last ten years, and there's something to be said about the familiarity of walking beside Tony and being someone he can lean on. They'd never been that close the first time around, but maybe— maybe this time they can be.

Cap and Tony both turn to look at him at the same time, matching expectancy on their faces. Steve blinks, then grins shakily at both of them. "Sorry. Off in my own world. What was the question?"

Tony's forehead creases for an instant before smoothing out evenly. "It was about where you'd like to stay. I have quarters here set up for one of you, but I don't know how comfortable you'd be sharing."

A laugh punches its way out of Steve's chest, sharp and bright, more than he means to show them. Cap's lips are quirked in a smirk of his own. "Tony," Steve says, "I don't think it would be a hardship for either of us to share a living space."

Tony bristles, but softens quickly enough, his face switching to that mocking, self-deprecating look he gets sometimes. "Right. You fought in the war; I daresay a full floor's worth of space would be positively palatial."

Steve starts to reach out for Tony to smooth the worry from his face, but shifts the motion at the last possible minute to run through his hair instead. "I wouldn't say it quite like that, Tony, but yeah, it's not a big deal to me if we do end up sharing." Then he glances at Cap, at the idle confusion on his features as he takes Tony in, and feels his heart twist. He doesn't want to get between the man that deserves this and the one that doesn't yet know he wants it. His heart twists painfully in his chest, the knowledge that these two may yet get the kind of friendship that he's longed for from Tony, that Cap may yet see the world the way Steve had never been allowed to. May yet save it the way Steve had failed to before. There's potential here, potential for a world that he's never known, never sought to take or create, and if he can nudge the universe in that direction then maybe, just maybe, it will all be worth it.

The nerves tug at Steve, the potential that he might be in the way, might prevent the future from becoming what these two could make it, and he pulls away. "That all being said, I do have my own place. I wouldn't want to intrude on the space you built for Cap, Tony."

Tony's nose wrinkles. "It's not a big deal, Steve. The space is yours, past, present or future. Whatever you want it to be."

"I understand," and Steve does, God, does he ever understand Tony's unending generosity and kindness, but this isn't about that, "but I daresay you'd be more comfortable with your version of me around."

"Maybe," Tony allows. He meets Steve's eyes pointedly, knowingly, and all at once Steve understands. This isn't about having the right Cap by his side. This is about having someone at his side that can even begin to comprehend what he's gone through over the last month. Steve can understand that. Not the way he wishes he could, but to a certain extent he knows what it's like to want someone with, as he'd once told Natasha, shared life experience.

Steve musters a smile and glances over at Cap. Cap has a look on his face like he's trying to decipher exactly what's going on in Steve's head. It unnerves him, seeing his own face looking back at him with that expression, but then, he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. It strengthens something in his stomach, something that makes the whole world tilt a bit on its axis.

He forces himself to look back at Tony before he speaks, forces himself to tell Tony instead of lay down a challenge in front of a man he wishes he didn't know as well as he does. "Well. If you'll have me." He sees Cap's eyes narrow into something heated and suspicious out of the corner of his eye. "I daresay your space is a lot nicer than mine."

If Tony notices the tension between the two of them, he makes no show of concern. He just laughs at Steve's words and gets to his feet. "Well then, get a move on, soldier. Go grab whatever you need out of whatever shithole you're holed up in and lug it over here."

Steve blinks, but it's Cap that speaks. "What, now?"

"Yes, now," Tony says sharply. Steve wonders how much of this is a result of the pain and frustration he's still feeling after the Battle of New York, or if there's something bigger and worse going on here that Tony never deigned to tell him about. There will be time to worry about that later. Right now, Steve has orders to follow.

* * *

When Steve gets back, Cap's still there, crowding into Tony's space in the penthouse.

"I told you, Cap, my building, my decision."

"We're supposed to be a team, Tony. If you go on doing whatever the hell you want—"

"I offered you a place here, _Cap_." There's a sharpness in Tony's tone that pulls at Steve's chest uncomfortably. "I offered you a place and you turned it down. All of you. And you want to tell me you get a say in how I run my building? My _home_? Don't be so naive, Rogers. This place is mine now. It could have been ours, but it isn't, and it won't be until you decide it's worth it to come back."

The words carry all the vitriol Steve had never realized Tony had held toward them, the anger and frustration and mistrust for these people that had waltzed into his life, his town, his home and then waltzed right back out with nary a word of thanks. Steve remembers how little he'd thought of the offer when Tony had first offered it, but now, years and years removed, he can see it for the olive branch that it is. It sends a shot of ice through his veins, but he swallows around it and drops his bag noisily on the ground. Cap startles and pulls back from Tony, his eyes harsh as they land on Steve. Steve keeps his own face carefully neutral in return, unwilling to give Cap any indication that he'd heard their conversation.

Cap's eyes narrow, and he marches across the room to stand in front of Steve, their chests separated millimeters. "Listen. I know Stark trusts you, but if you do a single thing that so much as vaguely inconveniences him or anyone in this city, I swear, I'll be back here before you can even stop to think or regret, and I will tear you apart. Got that, imposter?"

"What," Steve says, his instinct to antagonize not failing him even now, "you're not up for doing that right now?"

Cap's face twists at Steve’s knowing tone, and Steve would feel a little worse about it if he had any reason to believe that this man has Tony's best interests in mind. 

"I'm not going to do something like that on Tony's property. I respect him too damn much for that." Steve snorts, but Cap glares in return, silencing him.

"Maybe you never saw the man that he is when you went through this the first time in your timeline, or whatever cock and bull story you've fed him, but I know his worth. Learned that in the battlefield already. So you fuck with him, soldier, you fuck with me. Got it?"

Something warm and hopeful blooms in Steve's chest. If this man, this behemoth of a man that's all anger and rage and pain can understand and articulate Tony's worth with such a small nudge — nothing more than Steve's presence in this place — then maybe, just maybe, there's hope for something more.

"Got it."

Cap glares at him a moment longer before nodding once and pulling away. "See that you don't forget."

Steve nods, fighting the desire to pull his lips up into a smile. There's something here, a possibility, a potential, and if he's going to nurture it to fruition, it's going to take more than just getting Cap back on track. It's going to take getting Tony to understand that there's so much more here, so much more to this. If Steve can just steer this universe in the right direction, then maybe, just maybe, it will be enough.

Cap nods back, and then steps around Steve to the door without looking back once.

Steve stares after him, heart in his throat and wonder in his chest. Seeing his other self so worked up over Tony, it almost—

"Sorry about that, Cap." Tony's voice is warm and clear through the room, and Steve can feel it warming him from the inside out. Tony's alive. Alive. And this time, Steve isn't going to let that change.


	14. Chapter 14

Days turn to weeks turn to months, and Steve feels the way things change between him and Tony. Tony stops looking at him like someone untouchable and starts looking at him like he's just another person. A friend, even. Steve shaves his beard and starts working in the city, doing what he can to protect the world around them, to keep people safe. He keeps the cowl on at all times, hiding his face and keeping things as small and secret as he can. He doesn't need to be Captain America, he's choosing it for this moment. He’s choosing this so that his counterpart, another Steve Rogers with different priorities, can have the experiences that Steve himself never got to. It's the kind of life he'd wanted for himself, the kind of carefree world he'd wished he deserved. If he can gift that to another version of himself while keeping Tony safe in the moment, well, there's nothing wrong with that, is there?

Steve finds himself spending more and more time up in the penthouse, learning what Tony looks like at all hours of the day and night. He sees Tony fresh from the workshop, grease smeared over his face and arms, hair somehow perfectly soft when he faceplants into Steve's chest whining about coffee, leaving Steve's chest tight with affection. Steve tries in vain to push Tony's hair down from where it sticks up wildly, daring gravity to pull it back to its rightful place.

He sees Tony right before Board meetings, dressed to the nines with a pressed suit and all the warmth stripped from his features leaving behind the cold businessman he remembers from YouTube videos years and years ago. Nothing like the man he'd come to know and care for. The man he'd come back to save.

He sees Tony first thing in the morning, hair tousled in a different way than it is after a forty-eight hour work bender in the workshop, fluffy and comfortable the way Steve never let himself think of Tony.

He sees Tony in the dead of night, staring out over the city skyline with a lost look on his face. It pulls at Steve's chest, the need to make the pain go away. But all he can do is sit on the couch behind Tony and wait for him to come join him to watch whatever late-night show happens to be on.

It isn't friendship. There's still a vague sort of wariness in Tony’s eyes when he's near Steve, but Steve is willing to wait. There's a whole world ahead of them, a whole slew of opportunities between them and the damnation that Steve came here to stop. And with each step they take closer to what might, one day, be the kind of friendship Steve had been lucky enough to have with his Tony, Steve feels himself settle into his skin a little more. This isn't the life he'd wanted, but it's what he has, and that's what matters.

He doesn't let Tony go to DC when the helicarrier crashes with his counterpart allegedly aboard. He doesn't tell Tony anything about what's coming afterward. Part of him regrets not rooting out HYDRA from the core of SHIELD, but he'd had other things on his mind. Other things to worry about. Tony. Always Tony.

Steve holds Tony tight, holds him back, and swears that this is going to work out. That Cap will be okay. He has Sam, has someone to stand at his side, and that's all he's ever needed. He just hadn't realized until too late exactly who he wanted standing at his side.

"Trust him, Tony," Steve had whispered against Tony's hair as he held him back from the elevator, back from calling for his armor. "Trust that he's going to do what he can and that he'll make it through. I did."

Tony slumps against him at the last two words. "Yeah," he says gruffly. "Yeah, I guess you did." 

"So trust him, okay? He's gonna be fine."

Tony nods, and Steve lets him go slowly enough that he can watch what Tony's doing,make sure he doesn't do anything rash.

Tony just moves toward the elevator, instructing JARVIS to take him down to the lab. Steve relaxes as soon as he realizes that Tony's going to be more or less okay. That he's going to move forward and find a way to be.

For a brief second, just as the doors close on Tony's face, Steve wonders if he should tell Tony about Bucky. He hadn't two lifetimes ago, had waited until too late in the last lifetime, hadn't done what he could to save Tony the pain of seeing again his parents lost, and this time at the hands of someone that Steve would trust with his life. 

He wants to save Tony that pain and, selfishly, wants to save himself from watching his relationship with Cap fall apart again.

Then the elevator doors finish closing and there's nothing left for it but to close his eyes and pretend nothing at all had happened. He'll get a chance to tell Tony later.

* * *

He never does get the chance to tell Tony. Ultron becomes a possibility, and Steve does his best to stave it off, to convince Tony not to fall into the trap of his own fear. The fear that's been building since the Battle of New York. He tries to hold Tony back from his demons, tries to save him, but he's too slow. Too little, too late, and there's no time to do anything but watch as everything falls apart around them.

As Cap learns not to trust Tony.

Steve tries to argue, tries to fight back, tries to make Cap understand that there's too much at stake here, too much they need to rely on, too much that they can't afford to lose, but he knows how stubborn he's always been, and even on his best day he'd never had much hope that he'd convince Cap of anything else.

So Steve watches his team fall apart again. Watches the way everyone learns that it's easier to mistrust than to believe. Learns it's easier to hide in the shadows than to face the reality of what they've become.

And Steve watches as the world tips closer and closer to drafting the Accords. He's tried, twice now, to let Tony go into that fight something less than fully armed, but this time… this time he vows to give Tony every last tool Steve can arm him with.

The day before everything goes to hell — the day Cap and Wanda and the rest make their way off to Lagos — Steve corners Tony in his workshop.

Tony glares at him, trying to dodge around him, but Steve is unrelenting. Tony glares up at him, eyes bright and flashing. "What do you want?"

"I need to tell you something."

Tony's eyes go wide. "What, now?"

Steve nods.

"Four years and somehow today is the day you decide it's important that you break your vow of silence? What gives?"

Steve swallows. There's no easy way to justify what he's about to do. Not that Tony would accept. Unless— "Two lifetimes ago you asked me why I wouldn't tell you what you needed to know. Why I didn't give you the knowledge that would have made you strong enough to fight what's coming. I'm fixing that mistake now."

"Fight what's coming? What is it, Steve? What's coming?"

Steve shakes his head. "If you thought Cap was bad after Ultron, you haven't seen the tip of the iceberg. I've always been a stubborn asshole, but the next three days really take the cake. So if you're going to be able to go in with the kind of knowledge you need to counter me, you need to know this."

Tony wrinkles his nose, frowning at Steve, as though weighing the offer. Then he shrugs. "Alright. Shoot."

"Bucky killed your parents."

Tony blinks, his eyes dilating with something Steve can't quite place. There's fear there, panic and anger and the kind of weak-kneed shock that he hadn't had the chance for in that bunker the first time around decades ago. "What?"

The breathless quality of Tony's voice gives Steve pause, has him wondering if he'd done the right thing by telling Tony after all. But it's too late to turn back now. The truth is in the room between them, and all Steve can do is lean into it and hope it won't break them completely. 

"Bucky killed your parents. It was in the files leaked when SHIELD fell. I read them because I read everything about Bucky, anything and everything I could get my hands on. I didn't— I didn't tell you because I didn't want to risk losing you. I didn't want to be the cause of any more of your pain. But if we're going to get through this week in one piece, I have to believe that telling you might be the right call. I have to believe it might make a difference."

Tony's sheet-white when Steve finishes his tirade, and Steve can only hope he will hear the sincerity in Steve's tone, will hear the way he leans into the truth and believe and Steve really only ever wanted what he thought might be best for Tony. Tony closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I can't do this with you right now, Steve. I can't— I can't do this with you."

Steve pulls back, stung by the certainty in Tony's words. He swallows through the pain and fear and bile in his mouth and nods. "Right. Of course. I— I should have known. I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so sorry."

Tony gives Steve a small smile, idle and curious. "Maybe in a week, Steve. In the meantime, just… just let me handle what's coming."

 _You have no idea what's coming, Tony. No idea._ Steve smiles, though it feels shaky. "If you say so, Tony."

"I do."

* * *

A week later, when Rhodes is paralyzed and Tony's still sporting a hell of a black eye, Steve doesn't ask. He doesn't ask about Siberia, doesn't ask about the Accords, doesn't ask about the pain he knows Tony is still harboring. He wonders if one day Tony will tell him what exactly went down in that bunker this time around, but he doubts it. Some things are too personal to share, even now.

Steve sure as hell wouldn't share his memories of that first time around with anyone. Not Sam, not Nat. Not even he and Bucky had discussed the way he'd gone at Tony like a rabid animal that had nothing left to lose.

Then again, maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd already lost Tony then.

Cap's in the wind, and Steve had known that would happen, had known that that was coming. He'd known the end was near and he'd tried — albeit clumsily — to stave it off. To do something that might have changed the course of the universe. The course of Tony's life. He'd failed, as he so often does these days, and the pain doesn't sit right in his stomach or in his chest. But he breathes through it and finds the strength to carry on, because that's all he has left. Tony is all he has left.

Tony doesn't come to him until almost a month after their world goes up in flames. "How much did you know?"

Steve closes his eyes. "All of it."

"You're saying you could have stopped it. Could have warned us off. Could have kept Wanda from doing what she did, could have kept Cap from going off the rails."

"I could have tried. I don't know that I would have succeeded."

Tony reaches out with a gauntleted hand and fists it in Steve's collar. "Don't bullshit me, Rogers. Could you have done something about it?"

"Maybe."

Tony tosses him to the ground. Steve doesn't fight it. The whine of the repulsors echoes in his ears, low and dangerous and everything he hadn't wanted to admit was coming.

"I'm sorry, Tony."

"Get up," Tony hisses.

"Tony—"

"No, you get up and fight me like a man, Rogers. You get up and you show me how little you claimed to have known. You get up and you show me that you actually meant a damn thing when it came to keeping me safe. You get up and you _fight me_ , Rogers, or so help me—"

"You'll kill me?" Tony stops short at the easy challenge in Steve's voice. Steve looks up at him, trying to hide the depths of loss and mourning and longing in his chest. "You really think that's any sort of punishment for me? I've lost almost everything, Tony, lost some of the most important things in this world. If you think I don't deserve to live anymore, you're probably right. So go ahead." He bows his head. "Take the shot."

There's a long moment where Steve thinks Tony might actually do it. Where the rage and grief and pain from Rhodes' injury might overcome his rational mind. Then the repulsor whine dies away and Tony makes a low sound of distress. Steve looks up.

"Goddammit, Rogers," Tony mutters. "You got a death wish or something?"

"Or something," Steve answers before he can think better of it.

Tony's answering laugh is hollow and aching, and Steve's chest tightens at the sound. "Should've guessed you'd be as much of a smart aleck as he is."

Steve bites his tongue and doesn't say anything in response.

Tony shakes his head. "Whatever." Then he turns on his heel and marches out of the room, away from Steve.

Away from them.

* * *

Tony steers clear of Steve over the next several weeks. For his part, Steve keeps to the gym at the compound, hiding away from the way the world seems to echo with silence around him. He's careful with the punching bags, unwilling to risk breaking them any sooner than their normal lifespan would account for. He pulls his punches and holds back on his kicks and does whatever it takes to keep each bag lasting a little longer than it might once have been expected to, especially against his strength.

Inevitably, though, the last bag gives out, and Steve needs to find another way to keep his mind and body focused on anything other than the look on Tony's face when he'd knocked him to the ground. He goes back to running, learning again to relish the comfort in the dispassionate motion of his body through the world, the movement of his limbs through the cold New York air. It isn't what he'd wanted, isn't the world he'd hoped for for Tony and Rhodes and the rest, but it's the world they have, through his arrogance and idiocy. He won't tell them how to live their lives, won't tell them the best way to move forward. This is their life to live, their world to move through, and Steve will only ever be the person they expect him to be, will only ever give them what he is allowed. What they will accept.

For a solid two weeks, Steve stays away from the gym, moving through the world in his own way as he waits for the other shoe to drop. Waits for Tony to condemn him again, waits for Rhodes to accuse him of breaking the last of Tony's heart with the reminder of what happened to his parents. Whatever it is that he's waiting for, whatever it is that's going to come, he wishes it would just happen already.

Despite all his wishing and waiting, though, Tony still takes him by surprise when he appears in Steve's doorway one morning just as he's getting ready to go for a run.

"Tony."

"Captain."

Steve holds back a quip by force of will alone, and swallows past the instinct to say something snarky. "Was there something you needed?"

Tony's face twists in that way it does when he doesn't want to say what he's about to say. "No, though I daresay I'm a bit insulted you didn't come to me when you had something you needed."

"Come again?"

"I set up a new set of bags in the gym for you ten days ago, and I can see that you haven't used a damn one. Have to say, Rogers, that isn't the thank you I was expecting."

Steve's heart leaps into his throat, his whole body sitting up at attention. "You didn't have to do that Tony."

"Maybe not, but I did, so it's whatever, you know?"

Steve swallows down the gratitude and hope and want in his chest and nods. "Thank you, Tony."

Tony's nose wrinkles. "Just answer me this. What did you think telling me about Barnes would really have accomplished?"

"I don't know. All I knew was that the last two times I tried this, I didn't tell you, and shit went down a lot worse than I wanted each of those times." He shrugs. "I guess I hoped things would go differently this time."

Tony doesn't say anything for a long moment. Steve goes right on meeting his eyes, patient enough to wait. When it comes to Tony, there isn't a lot he won't do.

Finally, Tony looks up at him. "You hang a lot on hope, don't you?"

Steve shrugs. He doesn't have the words to respond.

Tony hovers in the doorway for a long moment, as though waiting for Steve to say something. To do something. But Steve doesn't have much left to give, and doesn't know what it is that Tony wants from him. He'd give it to him if he knew. Finally Tony lets out a long, low sigh. "Well, it's there for you whenever you want it."

Steve nods slowly, unable to lift his eyes to meet Tony's. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

Tony waits for a long moment, as though waiting for something more from Steve. When Steve doesn't provide, Tony lets out another sigh and turns away. He knocks twice on the doorframe, and then he's gone.

Steve takes a moment to breathe through the pain in his heart, in his chest, echoing down the line of his arms. Then he gets to his feet and makes his way back down to the gym.

* * *

Time rolls on, and Steve sees very little of Tony. He sees Rhodes, and Vision and, on one memorable occasion, Pepper, but Tony stays to the edges of the compound, out of Steve's line of sight. There's something going on here in the background, something Steve can't follow. Something that only exists in the dark of the night, the dark of the world, and there's so much floating in the ether that he doesn't have the strength to see through all that to the heart and core of the issue. That's always been more Tony's area of expertise than Steve's.

One punching bag becomes two, becomes five, becomes ten, and Steve's rarely felt this inept before, rarely felt this far from reality. Only once before, really: the instant he'd realized he'd lost his Tony so many years ago. There has to be something he can do to make this world a better place, has to be something that will make him worth it in Tony's eyes. He just doesn't know what it is, doesn't know what it will take, can't see or understand or _feel_ it the way he might once have.

Tony sends him out on missions occasionally. Small jobs that make it easy to hide his identity, small ventures that don't seem to matter much in the grand scheme of things, and yet that make all the difference in Steve's sense of self. He gets used to making his way to various outposts with Vision, with Rhodes, meeting up with whichever of the local heroes may be there to help out. But it's never the same as flying in a quinjet with Tony. It burns down to his bones, aching and dragging at him the way nothing else ever seems to, and most days Steve just wants it all to go away.

That's when he retreats to the gym, retreats to the punching bags and the bruised knuckles and the ache in his spine. The things that make him feel human, that anchor him in his body and in the world. It's not perfect, not by a long shot, but it's something. Something to make him feel whole and humble, and in the moment that's all he can ask for.

So when Tony comes down to the gym weeks — or maybe months — later, Steve isn't quite sure how to respond. He keeps his eyes on the heavy bag, keeps his fists moving through their steady, even rhythm, and tries to ignore the heat Tony's gaze raises in the back of his neck. He ignores it until he can't justify it anymore, and then he turns away to his water bottle and towel, swallowing a third of the water in one go and wiping at the sweat on his brow with the towel just for a reason not to look at Tony.

Tony sighs, the same sound Steve remembers from ages ago, and crosses the room to stand in front of him, arms crossed and eyebrow raised expectantly. Steve swallows at the expression, trying not to let his nerves get the better of him.

Tony's voice is low when he speaks. "I just need an answer, Steve."

"An answer to what?" Steve winces at the easy way he caves to Tony's words, to Tony's requests, to Tony's everything. But he forces himself to look up to meet Tony's eyes and whatever fate they hold.

When he meets Tony's eyes, there's nothing judgmental about their expression. Instead they're warm and soft, wanting and hopeful. "To the invite."

Steve's heart trips in his chest. "I wasn't sure you really wanted me at the wedding."

"I want you there."

"Why?"

Tony's face goes soft, like he's used to Steve saying things that leave him wanting to stick his foot in his mouth. "Because you've been here for me, Steve. In your own, misguided way, you've been here for me. For Rhodey and Vision too. For Clint and Lang when they came back. You've been here for everyone in ways that you don't even seem to see the value of while your… your counterpart is doing his damnedest to flaunt the laws that needed to be put in place to keep us all safe."

"Safe from what?"

"Human beings in a mob."

Steve smiles at the familiar words. "What's a mob to a king?"

"What's a king to a god?"

"What's a god to a non-believer?"

Tony's face splits in the first real smile Steve's seen in years. Too many years buried in pain and worry and suffering, all laid bare and put to rest in the last moment of his life. But here, now, Steve can see the warmth that is Tony, that is all he's ever wanted for him. "But I'm not, Steve. Haven't been in a long time."

Steve smiles back, heart heavy and wanting. "You meant it, then?"

Tony nods, some of the sadness creeping back into his expression. "I meant it. I want you there, Steve. More than I can say."

"I can't stand with you."

"Why not?"

"I won't put you in jeopardy like that. What if someone recognizes me? What if someone thinks I'm him? I won't jeopardize the work that you've done these last months."

"Someone could just as easily recognize you in the audience, Steve. Why not just let it be? Trust me."

"Trust you? What do you mean?"

"I can disguise you, make it look like you're someone else."

"Someone else that you'd trust enough to stand up with you at your wedding?" Steve shakes his head. "Why do you even want that?"

Something flickers on Tony's face before it shutters completely. "Right. Okay then."

Steve reaches out to him, catching his elbow before he can turn away. "Tony?"

Tony stills at Steve's touch. He seems to take a moment to compose himself before he turns back to Steve. "I never meant half as much to you as you did to me, did I?"

Steve's whole body goes rigid. "What?"

"We were never more than teammates in your eyes, were we?"

"I…" Steve can't find the words to reply.

Tony nods like that's answer enough. "I won't ask you to stand up with me, Steve. But it would still mean a lot to Pepper if you were there."

"Just Pepper?"

Tony blessedly ignores the crack in Steve's voice. His face goes soft, but still restrained. "It would mean a lot to me too."

Steve nods. "Then I'll be there."

Tony nods, something wistful on his face as he turns away. Steve can feel something waking in his chest, a monster he hasn't fed in years, something that wants what it doesn't deserve and can never have what it wants. He swallows down the desire and turns back to the punching bag.

He demolishes it in under fifteen minutes.

* * *

With the wedding preparations well underway, Steve finds himself sent out on more and more missions. It isn't easy being the lone ranger after so long with a team at his back, but he makes do, one foot in front of the other as he marches from battle to battle. He does whatever Tony asks and tries to ignore the way Tony's eyes always linger a little longer than necessary on Steve when the world isn't in total chaos.

The wedding comes and goes. It's a beautiful, quiet affair, not at all the kind of thing Steve might once have thought of when he'd thought about Tony Stark and marriage. Granted, at that time he probably never would have even considered the idea that Tony might get married, but that's a separate issue. The reception is as lavish as Steve might once have expected of Tony, but Rhodes tells him in no uncertain terms that their job at the reception is to keep everyone occupied enough that they don't notice Tony and Pepper sneak out at the halfway mark.

The whole thing isn't at all what Steve had expected when he'd come back this time, but he can't deny that being a part of this aspect of Tony's life means more to him than he would have anticipated. The ease and warmth and camaraderie among all his invitees settles behind Steve's sternum, at once warming his chest and chilling his heart.

He could have had this. And he threw it all away. And for what? His inability to trust in Tony?

He'd been a fool.

In the days that Tony and Pepper are off on their honeymoon, Steve finds himself ruminating on the concepts of truth and trust. When Tony returns, Steve waits until Tony is settled in again before he slips into Tony's workshop and broaches the topic with him.

"If I knew something that would affect you. You and the whole world. The whole universe. Would you want me to tell you?"

Tony frowns up at him from his perch on a workbench. "What do you know?"

Steve shakes his head. "Last time I told you something, you hated me for it. I don't think I can stomach that again."

"So you'd choose your comfort over the universe?"

"Not mine, Tony. Yours. I don't want you to have to face this alone, and if you cut me out—"

"That's all that ever really mattered to you, isn't it, Steve? That I might leave you out?"

Steve knows the anger isn't for him, not really, but it still stings. "It's not like that Tony and you know it."

Tony deflates. "No," he says. "No, I suppose it isn't like that." He sighs and shakes his head. "I don't think I want to know, Steve. Not this time around. Not really. There's… there are too many moving parts. Too many things at stake. I don't… I don't think I could handle it."

Steve nods. It's what he'd feared.

"But you'll do what you can without me, right?" Tony asks. Steve frowns at him, and Tony clarifies. "To stop it. Whatever it is. You'll do what you can without me?"

Steve's heart goes tight in his chest, and he nods. "I already am."

Tony nods, his face wide and warm and unknowing. "Good. Then I'm not worried."

 _Give it time,_ Steve thinks. _Just give it time. You'll learn to be as worried as I am._

* * *

The foot soldiers come. The spaceship takes Tony before Steve can get to him. Steve goes for Carol's transponder the second things turn bad, tries to find Fury amidst all the chaos and loss. He isn't fast enough to beat the clock, though, and by the time he gets there, Fury's gone and the transponder is already sending out a low pulse of energy to Carol. It isn't perfect, isn't anything like what Steve had wanted, but it'll work. It'll get them through this, get them to where they need to be, and Tony—

Tony will be alright.

He doesn't tell anyone that he knows what's going to happen. Doesn't let Cap or Pepper or Rhodes know that Tony's going to come back kicking and screaming and ready to change the world. He just waits with the rest of them. Waits and watches.

There's something different about his other self this time around. Something cold and hard and brutal about the way he hunches his shoulders and leans into the desperate need to do something. The way he fights and fights and fights through whatever he can get his hands on, whatever he can even begin to try to make real.

Carol comes. She comes and they tell her what they know and she goes back out into the great wide darkness of space to try to find Tony. To try to bring him back.

When Tony comes down the stairs, he looks smaller and frailer and more broken than Steve remembers him being the first time around. Steve stands off to the side, out of reach, lets Cap run to Tony and try to make this right in his mind. Try to undo the last three years of separation.

It doesn't work.

Steve watches from the other side of the room as Cap pushes every button Tony can't handle, every last tiny thing that he can't let go of. Watches as Tony snaps in turn, yelling every last word that Steve remembers from his first time on this rodeo. And when Tony's strength starts to fail him, Steve's there, catching him before he collapses to the floor.

It seems to be the first time in the three weeks they've been in the compound together that Cap has really registered his presence. He looks up at Steve, eyes narrowed and searching, and says "You knew."

Steve scoops Tony up in his arms, nodding at Rhodes to make his way to the medical wing. "I knew."

"Then why didn't you stop it?"

"Because that's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you here?"

Steve shakes his head. "You wouldn't understand yet." Then he turns on his heel and carries Tony into the medical wing.

They ask him to come along to go after Thanos. He declines as clearly as he can and, when Cap is unwilling to take no for an answer, throws his counterpart to the ground. "You come at me again, it's gonna cost you more than a sprained wrist."

Cap relents, and Steve leans into that with as much hope as he can. He knows what they'll find on Eden, knows there's nothing his presence will change, but here, with Tony, maybe he can make a difference.

The first words Tony speaks when he's finally conscious for more than five minutes are to Pepper. The first words he speaks to Steve are as dismayed and disappointed as Steve had expected. "This is what you came back to stop, isn't it?"

"Partially. There's more to it than just this, but… yes, this is what I came back to stop."

Tony nods, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "I invented time travel to stop all this?"

"To make it go a little better for us than it had the first time around."

"What exactly is it that we needed time travel for?"

"You sure you want me to tell you?"

Tony hums, still rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "I can guess that the rest of the team is chasing Thanos down now. It must have something to do with that. But you stayed here with me. Why?" Steve stays quiet, knowing that Tony's just processing his way through all the possibilities. "Because Thanos destroyed the stones. That's how they found him, the energy surge that would have happened would have triggered the deep space sensors." He shakes his head. "Time travel, huh?"

"To bring the stones back," Steve agrees. Tony's already made the mental jump. No reason to deny him knowing any earlier than necessary.

Tony sighs, and makes as though to roll onto his side. "Alright, then. Get me down to the lab, would you?"

"You're still healing," Steve protests, even as he takes Tony's weight as he eases out of the bed. "Are you sure you should be up and about?"

Tony snorts, then groans a little at what must be pain. "I've done more intense work than this on worse injuries, Steve. This is a thought exercise for now, that's all."

"A thought exercise? With me standing here in front of you?"

Tony stops short at that, turning to look at Steve asessingly. "No," he concedes. "No, I suppose it is a bit more than a thought exercise, isn't it?"

Still, Steve helps Tony down to the lab, pinging Pepper as soon as Tony starts to dive into his work. Pepper has as much luck trying to convince Tony to rest as Steve had, which is to say, none. For his part, when Rhodes gets back he seems just as interested in exploring the theory of time travel as he is in keeping Tony upright, which makes him Tony's work companion of choice. Steve still hovers at the edges of the workshop, plying Tony and Rhodes with food and water and occasionally trying to convince them to get some rest. Tony is far more amenable to the suggestion than he usually is, no doubt due to the pain and discomfort of his three weeks in space, but Steve can't really blame him. There's something about healing that can really take it out of you.

In the end it takes them a little over a month and three trips to Hank Pym's lab to gather what they need to deploy the time heist as Steve had accidentally christened it. He thinks of Scott, trapped in the Quantum Realm, and wonders if there's something he should do to keep him safe. To remind him he has a place here. That his knowledge and courage and confidence is going to save the universe.

But there's no time for all that. He almost manages to convince Nat and Clint to let him ride along for their mission, but in the end they send him to the Ancient One with Bruce instead. Cap and Tony are going to do what they can to get the Tesseract, and, with the appropriate warning from Steve, he almost thinks this is going to work out.

Then Tony and Cap make their way back to 1970 while he and Bruce return alone. Clint comes back sans Nat, and the team all but falls to pieces again. Bruce and the Hulk do their best to bring the world back into alignment, and for as out of sync as they are, they do a damn good job. But not good enough. 

Thanos comes through again, comes through and tries to take and take and take the way he always has. This is Steve's legacy, the world his arrogance has wrought, and there's nothing left but for them to suit up and fight again. It isn't as aching a reminder or as painful a reunion when countless Avengers come streaming through shining, golden portals.

Through it all the only thing Steve can think of is keeping Tony safe.

But there's no time. Steve's out of practice, hasn't fought the way he once needed to in years, and there's something to be said for resting on your laurels. He tries to keep Tony in his sights — God, does he ever — but it's no good. Tony's too close to Thanos, too busy fighting hand in hand beside Cap and Thor, too busy trying to save the whole universe with his not-quite-bare hands. It's too much, too close to Steve's chest, and somehow he has to move through it. Somehow he has to make it all worth it.

Somehow, he has to save Tony.

But he can't. He's too slow again, too far away, and there's no way this universe is going to be saved the way Steve wants to save it. All he can do is watch in horror as Tony dons the gauntlet, stares the titan in the face, and rains destruction on everything he might once have held dear. It's too much to bear.

He's tried everything he thought might have been what tore them asunder, tried to fix every last little thing that could have made a difference. He's watched Tony get married and he's watched Rhodes lose his legs and he's seen the kind of asshole he was when this all started, but none of that— none of that matches the pain of losing Tony again.

It's too much. He's done what he thought he could and it wasn't enough, and if it wasn't enough here and now, then when will it ever be enough?

Never. The universe is trying to send him a sign, trying to make him understand that this is never going to be enough. Iron Man's path was always to save the universe. That isn't in doubt anymore. If he's going to save Tony, he's going to have to do the one thing he never thought he would have to do.

He's going to have to destroy Iron Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. I'm sorry I've been AWOL for the last month. This past month has been a hell of a weight on my shoulders. I'm a schoolteacher in my other life, and dealing with the way my district is handling back-to-school stuff amid the COVID-19.... everything has sapped most of my strength and will to move forward. I've been doing my best, but the idea of posting this piece when I'm struggling with so much other BS in my life right now was just too overwhelming. I'm hoping to get back on a schedule here soon, but I want to apologize in advance if I miss a few updates going forward. Thanks for sticking with me. 💜


	15. Chapter 15

The air is hot and thick, and Steve's uniform chafes. He watches the truck ahead of him, the one with the most precious cargo. He hadn't been fast enough to catch Tony's eye and get him into his own truck, but that doesn't matter. He's right behind Tony, and if— when something happens, he'll be able to get right into the thick of the fight and protect him.

Nothing prepares him for the way the explosion rocks him to his very bones. Even his healing factor doesn't block out the ringing in his ears, and it's only his training and years of battles that keep him from losing his head. He hears himself shouting orders as he clambers out of the truck, running across the sand to get to Tony.

He should still be in the truck, the soldiers that had been riding with him now little more than bloody bodies on the ground. Bile rises in Steve's throat at this thought, but he swallows it down and soldiers on.

Except when he gets to the other side of the truck, the door's already been pulled open. 

Steve whips around to see Tony stumbling over the sand as explosions rock the earth at his feet. Steve takes off in his direction, feet finding purchase on the sand despite its best efforts. There's only one way to get to Tony, and this is it.

Tony's ducked behind an outcropping, phone in his hands, and Steve doesn't have time to register the sound of the missile that's aimed right for them before it's embedded in the ground. There's too much ground to cover between him and Tony. There's no way he'll make it. But he has to at least try.

He's half a dozen steps from Tony when the missile explodes, sending Steve flying. The ringing in his ears is back. It takes Steve too many moments to get to his feet and try to find Tony. The Ten Rings are already descending on them, and Steve loses track of time as he alternates between fighting them off and trying to find Tony.

He catches sight of Tony for a split second. He's being lifted into the back of a truck, his body limp and unresponsive. It sends Steve's heart into his throat, his body seizing with the need to rush to Tony's side. 

Before he can take a step in that direction, something heavy connects with the back of his head, and the world goes dark.

When he wakes up in the infirmary hours later, the doctor says no one should have been able to survive the blow to the head that he took. This, Steve assumes, is the reason the Ten Rings left him behind without finishing him off. No amount of pestering can get him access to Rhodes, and no one in the medical wing knows enough to tell him anything about Tony anyway. It takes an intense force of will for Steve to let his body heal instead of running off half-cocked to find Tony.

The longer he stays incapacitated, the more Steve realizes that he doesn't have the strength to live out these next ten years again. Tony needs to be kept safe, yes, but this timeline doesn't seem to be the one to do it in. 

He fingers the bracelet on his wrist, reaching into the pocket dimension it resides in, and tries to convince himself to pull it out. Tries to convince himself that this is worth it. That this is his reason. That if he couldn't stop Tony from becoming Iron Man then there's nothing left in this timeline for him.

But Tony… Tony's already lost so much. Even if Steve doesn't know Tony in this lifetime yet, even if Tony doesn't know Steve himself from a bar of soap, there's something in Steve's chest that makes him want to draw closer to Tony again. To linger, and to wait. To be whatever it is that Tony needs him to be, whatever it is that the universe is asking Steve to be for him. Steve isn't sure how he knows, but there's a part of him that knows he's hardly aged over the years between his first life and the life he now lives. The time he now lives in. There's something there, a memory hovering under his skin. Steve doesn't reach for it because it doesn't matter. The universe has given him the time to protect Tony, to make Tony as safe as he could possibly hope to be, and even if this lifetime didn't pan out the way he'd hoped it would, there's still time to fix it all.

So Steve lets them send him back to the States, wrangles his way into an honorable discharge, and makes his way, yet again, into security for Stark Industries.

It takes longer than he would have liked to work his way up the ranks and get close to Tony's personal detail, but he remembers enough about Happy that it's not difficult to convince him that he'll be able to protect Tony. 

It's an easy thing, and it isn't, his heart pounding in his chest with each interview that brings him closer and closer to the man he's here to protect.

The day Happy sits him down for an interview with Tony himself, Steve isn't quite sure what to make of the man. He's nothing like the person Steve has known for years, and yet he's everything like him in the same instant. Brazen and certain, sure of his place in the world in a way that Steve's Tony has never been. But still with that undercurrent of curiosity, hope, and conscience. It's more than he'd thought Tony would be at this point, and he's nothing at all like what Steve expected.

"Captain."

Steve jerks at the sound of his title from Tony's mouth, recovering as quickly as he can. "Yessir."

Tony's lips quirk up into an idle smile. "You're not at all what I expected when Happy described you."

"Neither are you, sir."

The words are out before Steve can rein them in, but Tony just laughs at them. "Well now," he says, "that certainly isn't the conventional way to get an in with the boss."

Steve almost lets the words cow him, but he knows better than to let go at this juncture. "Maybe not, sir, but you're hardly conventional, are you?"

That seems to bring Tony up short. He stops chuckling abruptly and meets Steve's eyes head-on, something piercing about the expression on his face. "No," he says quietly. "No, I daresay I'm not."

Then he gets to his feet, grabbing his suit jacket off the back of his chair, and says, all bluster and bravado, "You ever been to Malibu, Captain?"

"Sir?"

"I'm saying you're hired, Captain. You're welcome to take the position or not, but regardless I'm on my way down to my mansion in Malibu. Care to join me?"

Steve's on his feet and out the door in a flash. He doesn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Steve's there for Tony’s disastrous birthday party. The one that Nat had once used to finalize her opinion on Tony while writing for her report for SHIELD. Steve can't say he's surprised that the celebration had soured her on the man, but Steve likes to think he can see through all that. Can see to Tony's core. There's something here, something else going on that reminds Steve of Tony at his lowest, at his most desperate. Those moments when he'd been certain everything was over and there was nothing he could do about it. This is Tony's pain at its purest, and all Steve wants to do is take it away.

Unfortunately, he gets a little too close to Tony and Rhodes when they're going at it, and finds himself waking up from unconsciousness just as the sun is cresting.

He doesn't bother trying to find Tony. Not that he has a way to get to him regardless; most of the cars in the workshop are trashed, and it would take more strength than he has right now to wrangle one of the functional ones into a place he could get it out of the garage.

So he sits and waits. When he hears the telltale sound of SHIELD-issue vehicles making their way onto the premises, he secludes himself in the upper floors and waits until Fury, at least, has disappeared.

Unfortunately Tony has apparently disappeared too, and it's another several hours before he turns up again. When he's sure Coulson and the rest are occupied, Steve makes his way to the workshop again, ready to rouse Tony out of whatever drunken stupor he's found himself in.

"Sir?"

Tony's on his feet with a wrench in his hand in half a second. Steve dodges the throw easily, grinning a little despite himself. "What the fuck Captain?"

"I thought I told you to call me Steve."

"And I thought you'd have had enough sense to go running when Rhodey decided to take the Mark II for a test drive."

"Not that bright, I guess."

Tony gapes at him, yes wide and disbelieving. "You're serious right now."

"I'm serious right now."

Tony shakes his head, looking baffled. "Of all the—" He laughs. "Damn, Happy, did you pick a good one." When Tony turns to look back at him, it's with all the warmth and hope that Steve's used to seeing Tony turn on Pepper. It pulls at something deep in his chest, something aching and wanting and—

"Sir?"

The word shakes Tony from his daze, and a kind of distance snaps over his features. "Right. Captain." He shakes his head again,rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck as he does. "Right. Well, as long as you're here, you might as well help."

"Help, sir?"

Tony smirks at him, wide and bright and wicked. "Come on, Cap. We're gonna invent a new element."

* * *

Watching Tony work is a blessing and a miracle. There's something about the way he moves through the world, moves through his workshop, that defies all reason and meaning. He's quick and efficient, but easy and effortless at the same time. It's Tony in his element, and Steve can't deny how fascinated he is. Even when it comes to some of the heavy lifting, he'll complete a task Tony's set him only to see that Tony's done three other equally daunting tasks in the interim. 

The house is a hot mess by the end of it all, but for his part, Steve can only watch in wonder from behind a screen as Tony works his engineering magic.

When Steve makes his way back down to the lab, Tony's staring at the small triangle of metal as though he's just changed the fate of the universe.

"What is it?" Steve asks.

"This, my good Captain, is going to save my life."

Steve's heart stops in his chest. The triangle is suddenly a lot less interesting than Tony's profile. "What?"

Tony doesn't look away, but Steve sees the tension in his shoulders. Before Steve can say anything more, Tony starts to speak.

"The palladium in the arc reactor was killing me."

Steve clamps his jaw shut to keep from responding to that. He knows if he intejects, Tony will just deflect; Tony's tone is careful and nonchalant enough to make that clear. But maybe if Steve listens he'll learn what exactly this was all about.

"It would have been a slow, drawn out death, much worse than the other option, which would be a quick, painful death by shrapnel to the heart. This," Tony says, tapping the thin triangle of metal, "is what's going to keep me alive."

Steve isn't sure how to process the sudden influx of information. Tony had been, what? Dying from poison in the arc reactor? And he hadn't told them, hadn’t told Steve? But the whole thing would have been resolved before Steve came onto the scene anyway. Why _would_ Tony have told him back then?

"And it's safe?"

Tony shrugs, seeming not to hear the crack in Steve's voice. "Safer than the palladium, anyway."

 _Right_ , Steve thinks. _Because that's the bar right now._

Steve swallows down his apprehension and turns to look at Tony. "So, what now?"

Now, of course, everything goes to hell. Because Justin Hammer is an asshole with an ego bigger than his abilities, and he's let loose a godforsaken criminal who's done everything but put a hit out on Tony. And of course Tony goes and acts on his noble streak, makes his way to the fair, ready to do whatever he has to do to save Rhodes and every civilian in the line of fire. And for his part, all Steve can do is sit there and watch on the news. There's no time to get across the country, no time to intervene, no time to do anything, so he has to sit and wait and watch.

"Sir," JARVIS says as the newsfeeds from the East Coast grow more and more disturbing, "if I may. Mister Stark has relays into his suit that I can access if seeing what he's seeing would give you some peace of mind."

Steve's heart leaps in his chest. God bless JARVIS and his uncanny ability for knowing what Steve needs. He gets to his feet and is halfway across the room before he comes up short as a thought crosses his mind. "I can't, JARVIS. Tony wouldn't want me to."

"On the contrary, Captain," and there's a smile in JARVIS's voice now, "it was his idea."

Steve blinks. "What?"

"I alerted Mister Stark that you were experiencing some distress at his escapades and asked if he wanted me to cut the feeds. He seemed to believe that that would only distress you more, and insisted that I offer you this alternative."

Steve's heart leaps into his throat. Tony trusts him, then. Somehow, some way, Tony _trusts_ him.

"I take it you would prefer that?"

"I would."

JARVIS makes no note of the creak in Steve's voice, pulling up Tony's suit display instead. "This is Sir's Heads Up Display. It routes all relevant information directly to his suit and allows him to make immediate decisions about how to proceed. He requires little to no input from me, and operates the suit with far more skill than one might expect of him."

"How so?"

"He isn't combat trained, and never intends to be." JARVIS pauses. "Is that not why you were worried, Captain?"

"No." Something explodes in Tony's line of sight and he goes barreling out of the way, still chasing Rhodes. "I was worried because it's Tony."

There are three more explosions that have Steve wincing, but there's no immediate response from JARVIS. When the AI does finally speak, it's to say two unexpected words. "I see."

"JARVIS?"

"Nothing at all, Captain. Shall I outline what, exactly, is happening in the fight?"

"Nah," Steve says, eyes too focused on the screen to give JARVIS much of his attention. "I think I have a pretty good idea."

Tony gets through the fight with his suit and his ego intact, and Steve can't shake the warmth that blooms in his chest at knowing that Tony is safe. That, whatever ripple effect may happen as a result of him being here, it hasn't reached Tony yet. Hasn't put him in any immediate danger.

Then there's Pepper, and Tony's trying to convince her that everything's okay, and Steve knows where this is going. He has JARVIS shut down the video feed before he can hear anything too private and tries to ignore the twisting in his gut at the knowledge that, somewhere on the Eastern Seaboard, Tony Stark is about to get everything he's ever wanted.

* * *

Steve doesn't expect Tony to come back anytime soon. He has Pepper, he has Rhodes, he caught the villain of the day. Nothing much to worry about out here on the west coast. Steve doesn't mind. Tony's safe, and he can clean up around here. Try to get the place back in order when Tony and Pepper come back.

Which is why, when the door opens a solid twelve hours after he'd walked out of Tony's workshop, Steve's instantly on alert. The press conference hasn't even happened yet, so why would Tony be back? It can't be him. Steve feels naked without his shield, reaching for it instinctively and swearing up a silent storm when he doesn't find it at his back. Still, he makes his way up to the main floor, his heart hammering in his chest. The footfalls are familiar, but not familiar enough that he can identify them immediately. Instead he keeps to the edges of the stairwell to keep from being noticed.

He'd forgotten to turn the lights on up here. A common mistake now with his night vision being what it is. Still, after the bright lights of the workshop, it takes a moment before Steve can identify who it is.

Fury. Of course he'd be coming to snoop around at this point.

Steve keeps to the shadows, to the corners, and when Fury doesn't try to go down to the lab, Steve doesn't have to try to stop him. He's in and out before Steve can find a reason to get in his way, so there's nothing for it but to head back down to the lab. He doesn't know Tony's layout here well enough to know if something's gone missing, so he'll just have to let Tony know when he gets back. 

Tony does come back eventually, but it takes three days before he does. There's something to be said for the way he moves through the world, all elegance and grace. Steve can't even begin to match it, his soldier's body too quick and surefooted to match the high society grace in Tony's step when he makes it back to the house. Even with Tony clearly half-asleep and dragging his feet, Steve can see the undercurrent of poise in the way he holds himself.

"Sir," Steve begins, only for Tony to startle hard enough to spill the entirety of the coffee mug over his hands.

"Jesus! Rogers, what are you— when did you— when the hell did you get here?"

Steve's pretty sure _I never left_ won't go over too well with Tony, but his expression must say it for him.

Tony makes a strange sound in the back of his throat. "I left you here. Oh my god, you would have had to _watch_ — you _did_ watch… And I just— Oh my fucking god, Rogers, why didn't you text me or something?"

Steve frowns. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know so I could send the fucking plane or something? I didn't want you here all alone while I was on the other side of the country!"

Steve just laughs. "It's fine, Tony, I didn't mind." Tony's eyes are wide and blown when Steve looks back at him. Steve frowns. "Tony?"

Tony shakes himself. "Nothing, it's just. It usually takes people a lot longer to warm up to me enough to call me by my name." Steve scrambles to apologize, but Tony waves him off, as though sensing where Steve is going. "It's not that, Steve. It's okay, I promise. It's just. It's nice, I guess. For people to want to call me by name."

Steve swallows. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all." The look Tony gives him is that crooked half-smile that Steve only ever got to see when Tony was really, truly happy.

So not very often on his Tony.

"It's nice."

Steve manages a small smile. "Well, I can't say I've got the lab back up to your specifications, but I've done what I could."

Steve will just have to worry about the way his stomach flutters when Tony smiles at him like that later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time, but hopefully it clears up some things from last chapter!


	16. Chapter 16

Following Tony for the next two years once Happy's been moved to head of security isn't quite what Steve had thought it would be. There's a lot less time spent in meetings with the Board of Directors and a lot more time spent in labs and workshops on both ends of the country. Designing things beyond Steve's comprehension and doing so with all the clarity and finesse that Tony Stark embodies. There's plenty for Steve to do while Tony's working, he just doesn't understand a damn thing about it.

And then there are the Iron Man missions. The ones where Tony insists that Steve stay behind and avoid getting into trouble. Steve mostly just rolls his eyes when Tony says that, but he does as he's told.

He is, after all, Tony's employee at this point.

So Steve watches as Tony finesses his way through the world, watches as Tony woos the world and Pepper alike, and learns to appreciate this man. The one he'd never known before.

It's why he forgets until too late what 2012 will bring to Tony's door.

* * *

"When were you going to tell me?"

Steve frowns, not looking up from the paperwork in front of him when Tony comes storming up from the lab. "What?"

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Who you are."

Steve's heart clenches in his chest. "Tony?"

"Don't _fucking_ call me that," Tony snaps. "Not when you haven't told me who you are for the entire two years we've been working together."

"How did you find out?"

Steve doesn't even have time to wince at the poor choice of words before Tony's storming across the room to shove him out of his chair. Steve doesn't fight it, ready and willing to take Tony's rage. "What the fuck, Steve? Two years and you couldn't be bothered to tell me who you were? And you're not even just him, are you? _He's_ him, so you— you— god, Steve, who the fuck even _are_ you?"

Steve swallows, pulling his phone out to check the date as he gets to his feet. God. The Chitauri are going to be here in just a few days, aren't they? How could he have missed the date?

"What? Got somewhere to be, liar?"

"It was a lie of omission, and it was only to try to protect you."

Tony snorts. "You weren't protecting me, you were covering your own ass. Who are you? Tell me the truth."

Steve smirks, unable to keep the expression from his face. "I'm exactly who you think I am. You think you know. Why don't you go ahead and just ask?"

Tony stops short, looking like that's the last thing he'd expected Steve to say. Then his features go hard and steely and he nods. "Are you Captain America?"

"I was."

"Then who's the sorry bastard SHIELD just dredged up from the middle of the Arctic?"

"He's also Captain America."

"What?" Tony frowns. "That's impossible."

Steve just smiles, though it feels sad on his face.

"No, Steve, that's impossible. There was only ever one successful use of the super soldier serum, and that was on the one and only Captain America. One of you has to be someone else. Realistically I'd wager it must be you because I would have figured it was impossible for anyone without super soldier blood to survive in the ice for seventy years, but you two are obviously nearly identical, so— so—" Tony runs his hands through his hair, eyes wide and wild and distressed. "What the fuck, Steve? What the fuck?"

Steve brushes his hair out of his eyes, trying to find the words to say what he needs to say. "Do you want to know how I pulled it off? Or do you want to know what's coming? What you're going to have to stop?"

Tony's eyes go wide. "The future? You seriously expect me to believe you're from the future?"

Steve shrugs. "Believe what you want, but there's a hell of a lot going on at SHIELD that's under deeper encryption than you've breached yet. Things you would burn the world down to stop. God knows you tried where I'm from."

Tony staggers back a few steps, his pupils dilated with what might be fear or shock. "No. No, that's— that's—" He shakes his head. "I'm going back to the lab and I'm finishing up the designs for Stark Tower and then I'm flying back to New York for the weekend. But you're staying here, Rogers. You're staying here until you and I can figure out what I'm going to do with you."

Steve hesitates. He wants to be in New York, wants to keep Tony safe when the invasion comes. But that's going to lead to a hell of a lot more issues than Steve has the energy to deal with. Besides, Tony's kept himself safe so far. No reason to think he won't keep himself safe this time around.

Still. Couldn't hurt to have another pair of hands on the ground.

Steve waits until Tony's been gone thirty-six hours to bypass the security system, drive one of Tony's cars to the airport, and catch a flight to New York.

He keeps to the sidelines, spending only the cash he withdrew from the ATM in California to stay off Tony's radar. He could probably find Steve by the serial numbers on the bills if he wanted to, but Steve's hoping he has enough on his plate to keep him from worrying about that. He keeps to the corners, to the edges of the city, and he waits.

When the Chitauri come, Steve makes his move. He isn't totally indistinguishable from his 2012 counterpart, but he's hoping that his civilian clothing will keep him from being recognized. He does whatever he can to find the worst situations, the worst damage, the most untenable structures. He keeps to the corners still and does his damnedest not to be caught on camera. He waits until the worst of the invasion has faded. 

He watches with his heart in his throat as Tony flies the nuke up into the stratosphere, into the infinite vastness of space. He watches as Natasha closes the portal, as Tony's body freefalls through the air. There's a split second where he thinks it'll be too late, that the Hulk won't catch him, but it doesn't happen. Tony makes it to the ground safe and sound, and Steve, slow and steady and ready for his world to end, gets on a plane and goes back to Malibu.

It's three days before Tony comes back to Malibu. This time Steve knows it isn't because he's avoiding Steve or anything like that. This time it's because he's trying to clean up Fury's mess in New York. In fact, Steve's honestly surprised Tony came back as soon as he did.

It takes a force of willpower that Steve didn't know he had to keep from running to the door when Tony gets back. Steve stays in the kitchen where he'd been making dinner and pretends his heart isn't hammering in his chest. Tony comes storming in, and Steve can't stop the way his shoulders come up to his shoulders, the way he hunches in on himself and tries to become as small as possible. As small as he was in 1940, when he had his whole short life ahead of him, whatever that had meant at the time. Certainly not genius billionaire playboy philanthropists Steve would be willing to give up everything for.

"Steve."

Steve gives a full-body flinch.

"Steve, look at me."

"Tony," Steve says, hating how rough his voice is from disuse, from the way he hasn't been able to say a damn thing since the invasion anyway. He clears his throat. "Tony, please don't make me look at you when you fire me."

Tony makes a choking sound, and Steve clenches his eyes shut at whatever is coming. "Steve, I'm not going to fire you. Please, just look at me."

Steve clenches his fists on the edge of the counter, ignoring the way his hands leave dents in it. He lets out a long, slow breath, and forces himself to turn and look at Tony.

"Thank you, Steve."

Steve blinks. "What?"

"Thank you. I think you being here may have saved my life."

"What?" Steve croaks. "I mean, how?"

Tony smiles, but it looks fragile. "You made me think there might be more in the world. In the universe. You opened my mind up to possibilities. So when aliens came marching through bringing death and destruction to bear… well, it just didn't seem so far fetched anymore that you might be from the future. So thank you. Thank you for coming here, thank you for being here, and thank you for ignoring the house arrest I failed to put you under to come and help in New York."

Steve winces. "You saw that?"

"Steve. I've known you for two years. I certainly didn't think you'd pull several thousand dollars out of your bank account to go on the run. Not once I knew the invasion was coming. There's no way you'd have left that behind. You're too good a man to run."

Steve shakes his head. "All I do is run, Tony."

"I don't believe that."

Steve shrugs. "It's not something we've ever agreed on, to be honest."

Tony laughs. "I take it you and I got along at the start just as well as the Capsicle and I did?"

Steve's smile feels forced. "He accused you of not being willing to lay your life down for the good of the world?" Tony's smile flickers. Steve winces, but recovers quickly. "You taught me how wrong I was about that soon enough. I'm sure he knows now too."

Tony shrugs. "He doesn't matter right now. He elected to go off on a national tour and I'm not about to go chasing him down. I could care less what he thinks of me. What I care about is what you think of me. What you see about me and mine and how I exist in the world."

"Tony—"

"Is it worth it, Steve? All the pain and struggle. Is it worth it for the future we're building?"

Steve swallows. He doesn't have the words to say what he wants to, can't express how empty and incomplete the future had felt without Tony in those few days he'd existed there. "The future you created for yourself is more wonderful than I can say, Tony. So much more wonderful than I can say."

Tony searches Steve's eyes, seeming to understand what he isn't saying. "But you weren't happy with your future."

"The cost to make the future one we could believe in was too high, Tony. I couldn't live with it. I couldn't live like that."

Tony nods. "I see."

"Tony—"

"No, Steve. You deserve this just as much as I do. Deserve the happiness and the relief and the joy. You deserve everything, Steve, and I won't let you undermine that. I'll give you everything I can, and that's all I may be able to do, but I'll be damned if I don't do it."

Steve gives a weak smile. "Thank you, Tony. That… that means a lot."

Tony nods decisively, not breaking Steve's gaze. "Good. Then let's get to work."

"On?"

"On fixing the future."

* * *

No matter how much Tony harangues him, Steve doesn't say anything to him about what he needs to do. About what the future holds. About what it all entails. There's so much still to do, so far still to go, and Steve's been here for four years already. He doesn't have the composure to fight the whirlwind of Tony's intent, of his heart and soul poured into trying to make Steve's life everything it hasn't been. Everything it couldn't be after he lost Tony. There's no use in fighting this, no use in trying to understand why Tony prioritizes what he does. Steve just smiles and stands at Tony's side and tries not to think too hard about the coming day when the Malibu mansion will fall into the ocean.

Steve's there when it does. He's shouting at Tony even as he covers Pepper, throwing her over his shoulder and reaching for Tony in the same motion. Tony just shakes his head and sends the armor rocketing toward them.

Steve's always wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in Tony's armor. It's nothing like being encased in ice. The metal is warm and comfortable, security in every place where it touches his skin and his clothes. Steve closes his eyes for the split second he has to breathe into the new sensations before he can find the strength to open his eyes and watch Tony slide down into the debris.

Steve shakes his head even as he drags Pepper and Maya Hansen to safety. As soon as all three of them are on solid ground, Steve goes to dive after Tony, but JARVIS is faster than him. The AI unwraps him from the suit and, as Steve staggers and stumbles toward the precipice, dives into the ocean.

 _He's safe_ , Steve thinks to himself. _He was safe before, so he must be safe now._

 _You weren't here to make JARVIS hesitate before_ , that insidious voice whispers in the back of his mind. _You weren't here to mess everything up._

Steve shakes his head, ignoring these thoughts. Pepper's already calling the police. He needs to know what he's going to say when they get here.

Steve makes it through his debrief in a haze of loss and fear. It isn't until Pepper comes close enough to touch her fingertips to his elbow that Steve becomes aware of how much time has passed. He looks down at her, and when his eyes catch on the spark of light in her eyes, his knees go weak.

Safe. Tony's safe.

Steve waits in Malibu while Pepper and Maya go on the run to stay safe. Steve hopes— but then, it doesn't matter what he hopes. Tony calls on Rhodes instead, perhaps just as afraid of Steve potentially being gone as Steve himself had been about potentially losing Tony. Steve is relegated to the sidelines as Tony fights for his life. For Pepper's life.

And when Tony returns, bruised and battered but shrapnel-free and ready to face the future, Steve knows it's only a matter of time until a helicarrier will crash to the ground in Washington DC and they'll have to do this all over again.

Tony doesn't say anything when it happens. He just meets Steve's eyes and seems to accept whatever he sees there as what he needs to know and gets back to his work. They have so much still to do, so far still to go, and there's nothing left for it but to lean into what they have. What they know. Who they are.

When that more important call to Assemble comes, Tony looks at Steve like he has every other time the call has come. Like he expects him to come along. Steve almost does, but his presence hasn't done a damned thing the other times he's tried to stop Tony from creating Ultron. So instead he just wraps Tony up tight in his arms, closes his eyes to inhale his scent, and murmurs, "Try not to give into your fears, Tony."

Tony doesn't ask. He just nods and curls deeper into Steve's embrace, returning it before he leaves.

Steve doesn't watch the news. He doesn't listen to the radio when he goes on his grocery run or when he's in the gym. No need. No reason. Tony will tell him everything that matters when he gets back.

And Tony does get back. With haunted eyes and a broken heart, but he does come back. Steve doesn't offer empty condolences. He just wraps Tony up in his arms. "Welcome home," he whispers.

Tony's fingers go tight in Steve's shirt, choking on the breath in his chest. "Could you have stopped me, Steve? Could you have done something?"

"I don't think so."

"How do you know?"

Steve swallows. "I don't know. But I tried, Tony. I swear I tried. It… didn't work. And this time I wanted to be someone you could come home to. Someone that knew what had happened. Someone that could be here for you."

Tony tightens his grip on Steve's shirt, but doesn't say anything. They stand there for long minutes, as the world goes dark around them. Steve lets his cheek rest against Tony's hair, heart in his throat and stomach in his shoes. They still have one more bridge to cross, and Steve fears that this may be the one Tony won't be able to forgive him for.

Steve waits until the dust has settled after Ultron to sit down with Tony again. Tony's in the middle of something when Steve comes over, but he looks up just minutes after Steve settles down across from him. His face brightens, only to shift into confusion at whatever he sees on Steve's face. "Steve?"

Steve goes on meeting Tony's eyes, trying to find the words to make what's about to happen okay. He can't find them.

"Steve, what is it?"

"There's more coming," Steve says. Tony sits up a little straighter, though whether at the words or at the croak in his voice Steve doesn't know. "There's more coming," he repeats.

"Bad?"

Steve nods.

Tony's quiet for a long moment before he reaches out, taking one of Steve's hands in his. "Then we'll figure it out together, Steve."

Steve shakes his head. "You don't get it, Tony. There's nothing to figure out. There's nothing… everything I've ever done, everything I've ever tried, this part always ends up the same. I can't change it. No matter what, I can't… I can't…"

Tony squeezes Steve's hand. "We'll figure it out, Steve. Together."

Steve closes his eyes. "It doesn't help when I hide it. It doesn't help when I tell you. I can't figure out what I'm supposed to do, Tony."

Tony reaches up to flick Steve's nose with his free hand. "Then trust in me, Steve. Trust in me that we can figure this out. Trust in us that we can make this okay.

"Trust that, whatever you came here to stop, we can stop it together."

* * *

"Why didn't you stop it?"

"Stop what? Which part?"

"All of it!"

Steve feels sick. "What do you think I've been doing? None of it has worked, Tony. Everything I've tried has come up empty and every time you still—"

Tony's eyes go wide like he's hearing everything Steve didn't say. "Oh. That's…. that's what you meant."

"Tony, I—"

"No, Steve. It's okay. If that's the price I have to pay, that's the price I have to pay." Tony stands up a little straighter, his eyes bright and firm on Steve's. "Whatever it takes."

"That's the whole point, Tony. I'm not going to stand by and let you die. That's the whole reason I came back; to keep you safe. I need you to know that. I need you to understand that."

Tony shakes his head. "If you've done this before, I'm sure one version of me has told you this already. There are certain things in the universe that are fixed points. Things that can't be changed." He shrugs. "Maybe my death is one of them."

Steve can't breathe. "I don't accept that."

Tony shrugs. "Accept it or don't; that's the theory."

Steve clenches his eyes shut. He doesn't say anything. There's nothing to say.

* * *

Thanos comes. Steve reveals himself to Bruce, then to the rest of the Avengers after Tony goes hurtling off into the depths of space on a flying donut of a spaceship yet again. Steve stays behind and shakes and shakes and shakes, images of Titan on a life long past burned into the backs of his eyelids. There's no way the world is going to do what he needs it to do, what he wants it to do, and there's nothing for him to do but lean into the pain, lean into the ache, and make the world his.

When Tony makes it back three weeks and half the population of the universe later, for the first time in Steve's dozen lifetimes, he doesn't go for Cap.

He goes for Steve.

"You could have stopped this."

Steve's throat goes tight, but he doesn't say anything.

"Don't you stand there all stoic and pretend you couldn't have, Steve, don't pretend. Fucking man up and tell me the truth. Could you have stopped this?"

"Maybe. I haven't tried."

"You haven't— you haven't— What the _fuck_ could be more important than stopping all of this? You're a good man, Steve. A hero. Why wouldn't you use all that power you have and _stop this_?"

Steve can't help it. He looks away.

This time, when Tony collapses to the ground, it's Cap that helps Rhodes get him to the infirmary. For the first time, Steve lets himself wonder if he's been going about this all wrong. If maybe the point isn't Tony.

If maybe, just maybe, the point is to undo all this death and destruction.

"Okay, Tony," Steve says a week later when he's conscious. "We'll do it your way."

Tony creates time travel. They wind back the clock and save the day. And yet again, even when Steve warns Nebula about her father, about what's coming, still he comes. Still he brings his death and destruction raining down on them. Still Steve's world comes to an end with yet another snap.

Watching Tony slump to the ground, Steve knows there's nothing left but to concentrate on what he's been doing. Tony's the only one that matters. 

But maybe, if Tony thinks saving half the universe is the way to save him, well, maybe he's right.

So Steve travels back again, but not to 2016. Not to 2015 or 2012 or 2008. No. He goes back to 2018 and the Battle of Wakanda.

Steve goes back and tries, once again, to stop Thanos.

* * *

Steve stops trying to breathe through the pain, eventually. He's lost count of how many times he's come barging onto the battlefield to try to wrest the Stones from Thanos. Lost count of the times he's watched the shock on his counterpart's face melt into determination as the pair of them had gone for Thanos together to take whatever they could to make him pay. Lost count of the number of times he's screamed at Thor to _Go for the head_ only for Thor to either ignore him or for Thanos to hear him and raise his hand to stop the blow. It's never enough. It's never enough.

But Steve fights through the ache in his muscles, through the pain in his soul, through anything and everything he can to just— to just— to just _stop him_. Whatever it takes. He'd give anything, everything, his eye like Thor, his arm like Bucky, his life like Nat and Tony and everyone— _everyone_ that's fought for their life here and everyone that's died here and everyone that is going to die in five years when the same comes to pass and the final battle against Thanos comes to destroy Steve's soul. Failing to stop Thanos here… it's enough to make it clear that there's nothing he can do to protect Tony in that timeline. Each time he fails, he reaches into the pocket dimension, reaches into the other part of the universe, the other part of the universe, and he tries again.

And again.

And again.

It isn't enough. It's never enough. It's never, ever enough.

Maybe he should stop.

Maybe.

Maybe he should give up.

He hasn't saved Tony yet. Why should he think anything else would be different? Why should he think the world's going to change and cave to his will? Why would he think he was strong enough to do this? To save Tony?

Maybe. Maybe it's time to move on. Maybe it's time to walk away.

Maybe there's nothing left for him to do.

He stops trying to stop Thanos here. Tries again to stop him in 2023. Goes back to the future (hah) and looks at what he might be able to do to stop Thanos here. To save Tony here. He fights and he fights and nothing ever goes the way it's supposed to. Tony keeps dying and Thanos keeps almost winning and nothing is ever enough to save Tony from this fate. Steve screams out his pain, screams out the ache and loss and fear and wonder, and none of it changes the truth. 

Tony's dead and gone and Steve has failed more times than he can count.

There's nothing for it but to keep going and keep breathing through the pain, because if this doesn't work, what's left for him to do?

Maybe he needs to accept that he can't make the world bend to his will.

But no. He can't accept that. He won't. There's still so much to do. So many paths to try. He has to save Tony. If only he could— if he could just—

What can he do? Why would this attempt work better than anything else? Why would he think he could come up with the answer now instead of last time? Or the time before? There's no reason to think that at all.

Maybe he needs to let go.

Maybe—

Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You again have my immense apologies for the delay here. I have been up to my eyeballs in self-doubt and back-to-teaching struggles. I keep missing my intended posting date and then beating myself up over it and then delaying even more and feeling even worse.... it's just a vicious cycle. Thank you all for being patient with me as I battle my inner demons, and thank you for sticking with me all this time!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There have been some edits to the tags. Please heed them!

At some point Steve pulls himself out of the second cycle of trying to get to the stones before Tony. He's lost track of how many times he's tried — between that and the Battle of Wakanda it's more than one hundred, less than two; hours upon hours upon days of fighting — but at some point his tactician's mind comes back online and he realizes there's no way to stop the cascade of events that led Tony there, to the battlefield on his knees with the stones in hand. He's tried changing the course of the Accords, tried to protect the Tesseract from Hydra, tried over and over again to get to the stones before Thanos. For all that he's done, he only has Tony's hundred-odd deaths to show for it. This isn't working. Whatever it is that he's doing isn't enough or isn't right. Whatever it is, it isn't going to save Tony's life.

Maybe it's time to lay down and give in.

Steve lets the exhaustion and fatigue carry him to the compound, and when he falls into the bed that still smells of Tony, his compass presses hard and unforgiving against his hip. He closes his eyes against the reminder of how much he's lost, how much he's already given up. Maybe it is time to let go.

Still. He has one last promise to fulfill.

* * *

1945 is nothing like he thought it would be. Nothing like he remembers. The years he's spent in the future have tinted those memories rose gold and perfect in a way that being back here vividly reminds him they weren't. He knows he's got the right time, the right place, knows the would must still be raw for Peggy, but there's a part of him that still wants so desperately to give her what he'd promised so long ago.

He steps up to the door and knocks.

Peggy is as beautiful as always, hair and makeup done to perfection even in the comfort of her own home. The moment she realizes who he is, the tears start to bead in her eyes. Steve feels his own chest swell with the ache of a first love long lost.

"Peggy."

Peggy clutches a hand to her mouth, swallowing back a sob. "Steve. Steve, how— how—"

Steve manages a smile. Even here and now she's asking questions, trying to understand. It's something she and Tony had always had in common. "Can I come in?"

Peggy startles and draws back. "Of course, of course. Where are my manners?"

She doesn't babble the way Tony does— did. The way Tony did. Her movements are stuttered, starts and stops as she moves and there's a ghost of Tony in that too. The resemblance grips Steve by the heart and reminds him all over again that he's here to give her closure, if he can. Nothing more, nothing less.

Peggy turns to look at him, eyes wide and bright. "We have to let the Commandos know. Stark is probably out on another expedition trying to find, well, you, but— oh! Did he find you? Is that why—"

"Peggy." Something in his tone must get to her because she quiets instantly. He holds a hand out, his face aching as he smiles. "Dance with me?"

Peggy's eyes go wide, something in her understanding the request implicitly. She takes his hand and he eases her in close. She settles against his chest, cheek pressed over his heart as they move in slow, easy steps. There's no music, nothing to remind him that this is only temporary; just a reminder of a time long past. A time to which he no longer belongs. He stays there, suspended in the reverence and hope for a life he might once have had. A life without the Avengers, without intergalactic battles and homicidal aliens, without the knowledge of the beauty and the wonder that the twenty-first century holds.

Without Tony.

Steve's feet slow before he's even thought about it. Peggy looks up at him, warmth and devotion in her eyes and Steve knows all at once that he can't drag this out any longer.

"Peggy. I… I can't stay."

Peggy frowns. "What?"

"I can't stay."

She nods, her eyes still bright, but understanding reigns. "Of course, you'll want to be getting back to Brooklyn. I should have thought—"

"No, Peggy. It's… it's more than that."

"Steve—"

"I can't stay because there are still things I need to do. People I need to save."

They're not dancing anymore. "The war's over, Steve. Didn't they tell you?"

"The war is never over, Peggy. It just starts to look a little different."

"What are you saying, Steve? Are there things I need to know?"

Steve's smile feels more genuine now, warm and sad and a little lost. He'd thought he could find closure here, that he could give her closure, but all he's done is create more questions for both of them. He reaches up and runs his fingers over her hair. "So many things, Peggy. So many."

"Then tell me, Steve. What do I need to know?"

Steve shakes his head. "There's not enough time in the world to tell you everything I need to, Peggy. And there's too much at risk. If I say the wrong thing I could destroy everything."

"Steve. What are you saying?"

Steve feels his face soften at the question. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?"

"Peggy. I'm not the man who took a plane on a nosedive into the North Atlantic a few months ago. For me, that was years ago. Decades."

"You haven't aged a day."

Steve gives an aching smile. "I know my healing is incredibly accelerated, but even you can't believe that."

Peggy shakes her head. "How, Steve?"

Steve clenches his eyes shut. "Schmidt was dealing with forces he couldn't even begin to comprehend. If I am going to keep everyone and everything safe, I can't stay. I can't."

"Then where are you going?"

Steve smiles, some distant memory of Bucky stirring in the back of his mind. His heart aches and he wonders, not for the first time, if coming back to try to save Tony was the right call. "The future."

Peggy doesn't answer for a long time. "You're not pulling my leg, are you? I can see it when I really look. You are older. Not decades older, but certainly older.”

Steve looks away at the unspoken accusation. The pain in Peggy's eyes is too much to bear. "Yes."

Peggy stays quiet long enough that Steve can't help but look up at her. A single tear has traced its way over her cheek, the rest remain beaded on her lashes. "Then why come here, Steve? Why come here if you can't stay?"

"To give you closure. To let you know that there is a great, wide world in front of you with more opportunities than you can possibly imagine. The world is your oyster, Peggy. Make it the kind of place you want it to be."

"I always would have."

Steve laughs at the sharp certainty in Peggy's voice. "Of course you would. But you need to be careful. There are already people who have forgotten the price of freedom. Don't let them take control of what you do. You have the power here, Peggy. Never let them forget it."

Peggy's face hardens. She nods and pushes up onto her tiptoes to kiss the corner of Steve's mouth. "I won't."

Steve closes his eyes against the warmth and certainty of her lips. "I don't doubt it."

"See to it that you don't."

Steve smiles but doesn't return the kiss. It feels a falsehood that she doesn't deserve. "And Peggy. When I find my way back again, just know that I am doing everything I can to keep this world safe. This is my burden to bear. Don't try to stop me."

"No one in their right mind would, Steve."

Steve closes his eyes. "You'd be surprised."

Peggy sighs and cups Steve's cheek. "If you've come this far, Steve, you must have the power here too. Never forget that."

Steve's breath catches at the easy way she asserts it, the easy way she believes in him. It's more than he deserves, more than he ever thought he would have, but he gives in and leans down to press a kiss to her cheek regardless. "If you say so."

"I do."

Steve smiles. "Well then. Let's keep this visit between us, hmm?"

Peggy raises an eyebrow. "You think I wouldn't have?"

"Not even Stark."

The other eyebrow pops up to join the first. "The Commandos?"

Steve hesitates. "That's up to you. But Stark can't know."

Peggy nods. "Alright."

The relief is immediate, and sets Steve's bones with the weight of his next task. "I'll see you when I can."

"Are you saying I shouldn't wait up?"

Steve knows what she's asking and finds all at once that he knows the answer. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

Peggy closes her eyes and Steve can see how much the words hurt her. "Goodbye, Captain Rogers."

"Goodbye, Agent Carter."

Then Steve's letting her go, making his way to the door, and walking out of her life for the next twenty-five years.

* * *

Steve fully expects the barrage of soldiers that bare down on him once he lets himself be seen in Camp Lehigh. It's enough to be certain that the other version of himself and Tony are able to make it back to their timeline, and it's enough to get him noticed by the bigwigs. He lets himself be dragged into a holding cell, but only because it gives him the time to let his eyes linger on Tony's form before Tony and his past self duck into an alleyway and disappear.

As soon as he feels the prickle in the air, the way the hair on his arms stands on end at the instant of departure, all the tension goes out of his body. There's nothing left now but to follow along and let himself be led. There's a world ahead of him, a whole life to live, and even if it isn't the one he'd thought he'd have, it's what he has ahead of him now. No reason to fight it. No need to deny what's coming. It's time to fall in line and be the soldier he'd never let himself be before. This is going to be the hardest thing he's ever done, but it's also likely to be the most important too.

Which is why, when they send Peggy in to question him, he knows this isn't going to go at all according to plan.

Her face betrays nothing when she comes in and sits down across from him. She sets down the file folder in her hands, flipping it open to the single sheet of paper inside that he knows holds whatever information they'd managed to get off of the woman in the elevator. "Captain Stevens."

Steve raises an eyebrow. Not bad. "That's me."

"What branch?"

"Army, ma'am."

Peggy's lips quirk up in an approximation of a smile. "And you're trespassing here on Camp Lehigh because…?"

"Not trespassing, ma'am. I'm here on assignment."

Peggy closes the folder, interlacing her fingers above it and leaning forward toward Steve. "On whose orders?"

"You wouldn't know him."

"Try me."

"Captain Steve Rogers."

Peggy's eyes narrow. "Cut the crap."

"You know I'm telling the truth."

Peggy sits back, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. Then she gets to her feet and steps out of the room for a brief moment. The insistent buzzing in the room stops, and Steve feels his heart rate ratchet up a few notches. Very little good can come from Peggy shutting down the cameras, and it has Steve on high alert, ready to break out the moment he needs to.

Peggy comes back inside and meets his eyes head on. "Steve. What the hell is going on?"

Steve raises an eyebrow.

Peggy shakes her head. "You have to give me something, Steve. I can't go out there and claim that you just showed up here unannounced with perfect knowledge of the arrangement of this base. You know as well as I do that you're supposed to have been dead for more than twenty years. Even if I know—"

"But you do know, Peggy. This is why I told you what I did all those years ago. This is why I tried to explain it to you."

Peggy shakes her head. "I couldn't very well document that without losing all credibility with the SSR, Steve, you know that. Not with where things are in the world right now. Not with—"

"But I know you. And I know you must have tried. You must have tried, Peggy, especially with what I told you about coming back. You had to know I was serious."

"I did. But there was only so much I could do, especially when you told me not to tell Howard."

Steve's face darkens. "It's complicated, Peggy."

"Then uncomplicate it, Steve. Help me understand. You've certainly had time to figure out how to explain it to me."

"What?"

"It's been years. Surely you've thought about how to explain it all to me in the interim."

Steve shakes his head. "It's been less than a day since I saw you last, Peggy. I came here straight away after I danced with you. There's a reason I could only tell you so much back then, a reason I could only tell you about what had happened to me and what was to become of my future. None of that has changed."

"This has to do with Maria's baby, doesn't it?"

Steve blinks. He can feel his heartbeat betray him, hammering fast in his chest for an altogether different reason this time. "What?"

Peggy smiles, her face gentle with the knowledge of twenty years of contemplation and trying to understand what the hell Steve was thinking coming back in time to see her before disappearing back into the ether. "The second they gave me your description I figured that must have been what it was. Why else would you refuse to let me tell Howard and then show up again just months before the baby is due?"

"Peggy—"

"You don't have to tell me what the baby is to you in the future. I don't really want to know. But I do want an honest answer. Is that baby the reason you're here?"

Steve stares into Peggy's eyes, so bright and knowing and strong, the way they've always been. The way he always knew her to be. "Yes."

Peggy nods. "Then we can work with that."

* * *

Peggy's face is tight as she finalizes the paperwork to get him assigned to Stark's detail. "Are you sure you don't want to let Howard in on what's going on?"

Not for the first time, Steve hesitates. There's definitely something to be said for telling Howard that he's coming from the future, from a place and time where his son is the most powerful man in the world, that his son saved the world more times than he can count, that he saved Steve's life a dozen times over and that he saved the universe in the end. That Steve's only here to do right by Tony and help him have the life he always deserved to live, always deserved to have.

Then he thinks of the way Tony always spoke about his father and he thinks it might be best to leave Howard out of it, at least for as long as he can. Steve doesn't know this Howard yet, and if he can at least understand why Tony always spoke that way about Howard, then perhaps he can find the right thing to say to bring Howard back into Tony's life as the person Tony needs. The person Tony deserves.

"Steve?"

"I'm sure, Peggy. I know you trust Howard, but there's so much more at stake. I don't even know if I'm supposed to let you in on this, but I also know I can't do this alone."

Peggy's smile is soft and not a little sad. "You know you always would have had a place here."

"I know." Steve hears the break in his voice but doesn't acknowledge it. "But there are things that are more important than falling in line."

Peggy laughs. "You never would have fallen in line."

Steve grins back at her. "Nope. Not my style."

"Alright then." Peggy shakes her head and stamps his paperwork, forged in the best of ways from her people at SHIELD. She closes the folder and hands it up to Steve. "Then I wish you the best of luck."

Steve takes the folder, opens it, and looks down at the paperwork that pronounces him as no longer KIA, but instead recently returned from an extended assignment. It writes off the apparently relatively slow aging as a side-effect of the serum, and gives him back all the clearance and access he'd once had and then some.

For a moment, as he stares down at the record, Steve wonders if he should be asking after the Commandos. If he should be wondering where they are, what they've been up to, when he can see them. The thought of letting pieces of his old life wash back over him is more tempting than he lets himself admit.

But he has a new life to reinstate, a new life to incorporate and recreate from the ashes of what Tony's sacrifice had left behind. There's no time for reminiscing anymore. Not if Steve is going to get his Tony back to where he deserves to be.

Because Tony deserves the world.

He closes the folder. "Thank you."

Peggy nods. "Let me know if you need any more help."

"I will. This couldn't have happened without you, Peggy. You know that, right?"

She manages a smile. "I'd imagine you would have pulled it off regardless, but I am not opposed to claiming some responsibility for how well it will go."

Steve smiles back, and feels his chest warm when her smile widens a bit in response. "That's fair. We both know how stubborn I am."

Peggy shakes her head and laughs. "Go, Steve. Go see to your future. Make it all it was meant to be."

Steve tightens his grip on the folder in his hand, feeling the paper buckle slightly in his grip. "I'll do my best."

"I am certain you will."

Meeting up with Howard after so many years apart is unsettling. There are still elements of the man he once was; he's still brash and verbose and overconfident. But there's a restraint in him now too. Like he knows what he's capable of and fears there's little he can do to reel in the potential devastation he can cause.

Or maybe that's just Steve projecting.

Howard's face lights up when he sees Steve, and he makes his way across the compound the moment their eyes meet. He reaches out to shake Steve's hand, jubilance in his expression. "Captain. It's a relief to see you up and around."

"And alive?"

"And alive."

Steve knows the smile on his lips is tighter than Howard is used to, but he can't quite make himself do anything about it. "It's a relief to be alive, Howard."

There's something cautious and uncertain about the look on Howard's face. Steve tries not to look at it too closely. "So, you've been on assignment with SHIELD?"

"Yes. Off and on for the last twenty-five years."

Howard frowns. "The years have been kinder to you than they were to me, that's for sure."

Steve's smile goes even more brittle. "The doctors think it's serum."

Howard hums, something distracted in his eyes. "Well, I have to say, I'm glad they've let you off that short leash. It's been a hell of a thing trying to keep this place going without you."

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"You were more than just a soldier, Steve, you were a symbol. An emblem for the potential that modern science has given us. There's a whole world of possibility ahead of us, and my team and I have only been able to do so much without someone like you on our side."

"Someone like me?"

"Someone that speaks their language but also understands the power of progress."

In that instant, Steve sees the man that Tony spoke about. The man that Howard had become between the end of the war and now. The man that the Manhattan Project created and the man that no one could save after that. It takes all his training to keep the idle smile on his face as he sees the man that was so willing to leave Tony behind.

The man that left behind a son that would save the world.

"Well, I can't say I'll be much help on that front, Howard. There's a lot they haven't been upfront with me about, and a lot they couldn't tell me while I was on assignment. But I'll certainly see what I can do."

There's a flicker of understanding in Howard's eyes, a flicker of something that betrays his own kind of intelligence, the knowledge that he holds so close to the chest, whose existence he never really lets anyone know or remember once they've discovered it. He isn't Tony, but he taught Tony plenty. Steve can't afford to be sloppy. He's lost Tony too many times already.

Steve lets his smile go soft at the edges, his eyes distant as though with memories. "I can't promise it'll be worth much, but I can try."

The knowing disappears from Howard's eyes, and he nods once. "Well, I'm glad to see you, at any rate. Things haven't been the same around here since we lost you." Howard steps around Steve, nodding in the direction of the bunker. "You gotten a tour yet?"

_Yes_. "Not yet."

Howard gives him that sharp look again and it's an effort not to give anything away. Howard nods again. "Well, I don't know how much clearance you have, but I can certainly show you around a bit."

Steve eases as much information out of Howard as he can. About the base. About the company. About Maria.

That last one he's more than willing to discuss with Steve. All about the pregnancy and how it's progressing and how the world has been moving around her.

"She's radiant, you know. Absolutely glowing with the pregnancy."

Steve's never met the woman, but with what Tony's always said about her, he's not sure he believes that. Still, he smiles and nods and makes nice with Howard. It's an easy thing to slip into the roles that Natasha had always taught him, too easy to become that person again. Steve leans into whatever Howard asks of him during the day, and at night he goes home to the barren barracks they've allotted him to wait for the morning.

At this point, he's just waiting for Tony to come back to him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you there! **Yeah, you!!** Take a look up there and note the new tags!!! They're important, ya feel?
> 
> I realized that I rearranged some of the scenes in the overarching series and that moved up some of the underage Issues and stuff and things. Whoops? Please take note before proceeding, and I apologize for dumping this on you this late in the game. Please forgive me!!

Steve's in better physical shape than he's been in in years when Tony's born in May. There's warmth in Steve's heart when they let him into Maria's hospital room, tenderness and comfort. He barely notices Howard breezing past him as he makes a beeline for her bed. Maria looks up at him, her face lined with exhaustion, and he can see the relief in her eyes. Steve leans in, trying to feign support for Maria when he's really only here for Tony.

"How was the delivery?"

"The nurses said it was typical. If that's typical, I'm never doing it again."

Steve smiles tightly. "How's the baby?"

Maria looks down at Tony. "The nurses say he's fine too." She tilts him toward Steve, revealing a tiny face and scrunched up features.

All at once, Steve feels the reality of what's happening. This is Tony as a newborn, with all the potential that that entails. He's seized with the desire to snatch him from Maria's arms and sequester him away where no one can reach them. To keep him safe from the whole wide world that would destroy him.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?"

Steve looks up at Maria. It's the first real emotion he's heard in her voice since he got here. She's looking at Steve, though, and something in Steve wonders if this is just her trying to gauge his reaction to the infant. It's a strange thing to wonder about her motivations in all of this. He knows full well that Howard just wanted an heir — the man has made that abundantly clear in the last few months — but Maria has been quiet on the matter.

Steve softens his features. "He is."

Maria's face brightens slightly. Steve isn't sure how to read that reaction. Before he can think too hard on it, though, she holds Tony out toward him. "Do you want to hold him?"

Steve doesn't try to hide his delight at the offer and reaches out for Tony immediately.

The doors open just as Steve is settling Tony into the crook of his elbow, admitting Howard and several of his coworkers. They're people Steve hasn't made the time to know yet, but he recognizes most of them. Within minutes, Howard's passing cigars around and Maria's nodding at the men's congratulations while Howard entertains, but Steve only has eyes for Tony. He only just manages not to tell Howard off for the cigar smoke in the hospital room, and even then it's mostly because all his attention is on Tony. He's tiny, so perfect, and everything Steve's fought for over the last… god, how long has it even been? How many years since the first time he watched Tony die on that battlefield?

However long it's been, Steve swears to himself that there won't be another time. This Tony will live. This tiny, perfect bundle will be everything he has the potential to be and more. Steve will bet his life on it.

* * *

Steve didn't factor in the inability to sleep when he told himself that he'd keep Tony safe. He's up almost as often as Maria, taking Tony from her grip when he's done nursing but still fussing feebly in her exhausted arms. The first time he offers, she almost refuses.

"He'll be just fine, Steve." It had taken weeks to convince her not to call him by his title. "He'll fall asleep on his own."

"He will, but there's no reason for him to fuss if I can be here with him."

Maria gives him an odd look. "You're really taken with him."

Steve looks up at her, trying to determine the intent behind those words in the room that's lit only by the moon through gauze curtains. "I suppose I am." He doesn't offer anything more than that.

"And you really want to stay up with him?"

"I do."

There must be more conviction in his voice than he intended, because her eyes go wide, and she nods. She never argues with him again.

He walks around the nursery with Tony while Maria heads back to bed, bouncing him and rocking him idly depending on the infant's mood, and always always telling him stories of the future.

"One day, Tony, you're going to be the smartest man I've ever known."

"One day you'll see the stars, Tony."

"If I'm not careful, you're going to grow up to be a superhero." Steve smiles when he says this one, looking down at Tony and letting the infant nuzzle against the finger he has caught in his tiny grip. "But then, maybe you'd like that huh?"

Tony doesn't seem to register the words or the shift in Steve's tone. Not at first. But somewhere along the way — the days have long since turned to months, and Steve's only aware of the time passing because of the calendar in Howard's office — Tony starts to listen more intently. Maria's stopped nursing, and Steve's happy to get Tony his bottle when he wakes in the middle of the night.

Once-a-night stories become twice-a-night stories become thrice-a-day stories, and Steve isn't sure when Tony started looking back up at him so intently, but somewhere along the way he did. His brown eyes are huge in his tiny face, staring up at Steve as he gulps down the formula. There's something knowing in those eyes, understanding pure and strong, and it sends a shiver down Steve's spine every time he catches sight of it. Tony's eyes shouldn't be filled with this much knowing. Not this young.

But Steve knows better than to ask questions, knows better than to push where the Starks don't want him, and as Tony gets older, those times become more and more frequent. Howard wants to keep Tony learning constantly, Maria wants to prepare him for high society, and Steve… well, Steve just wants to dote on him, wants to take care of him. Not much room for that in the life of the future CEO of Stark Industries. Steve's never far away if he can help it, and it doesn't take long to realize that Edwin is looking out for the boy just as much as Steve himself. They've been partners in protecting Tony from the pains of the world for months now, and Steve knows he can trust the man with Tony's life. Tony certainly had.

It had been a hell of a thing the first time Steve had met Edwin and Howard had called him by his last name. He'd never thought to ask why Tony had named JARVIS what he did. When he'd first met the AI, he'd assumed it had been a prank or an idle fancy that had given it that name, and then had never bothered to ask Tony to correct his assumption. To know that Tony's favorite project — the strongest, truest creation of his brilliant mind — had been named after this man. It was a hell of an endorsement, and left Steve free to do what he needed to do.

Because even with him and Edwin in the picture, Steve understands now how important Howard and Maria could have been to Tony. How important they must have been, if the loss of them had so devastated him in his youth. And if Steve can make coming back here mean something, then that something will be saving Howard and Maria from the fate they'd suffered in his timeline. Somewhere, somehow, he might be able to get Bucky out from under Hydra's control. Goodness knows he's already working with Peggy to root out the insidious forces that have taken up space in SHIELD. They may take on another form, but they will at least not deface one of Peggy's greatest achievements. Steve won't let that happen.

But he can save Bucky too. Save Bucky and save the Starks and then maybe, just maybe, Steve will be able to see Tony live the life he deserves. So he leaves Tony to Edwin and goes to do something only he can do. Something that might be enough to move the needle. To save Tony's life.

It takes the better part of four years to find the cell that's in charge of Bucky, and another eighteen months to convince King T'Chaka that Bucky deserves whatever treatment they can provide. The king is understandably skeptical, understandably disinterested in protecting an outsider, but as Steve reveals what he knows — what he shouldn't know — he gradually becomes willing to hear what Steve needs.

And so, in 1982, Steve returns to the States with Bucky safe in Wakanda, the Starks safe from Hydra, and Tony… off in boarding school. Steve's heart aches at the realization that his focus on saving Tony's future may have cost him his childhood.

For about a week, Steve considers letting it be. Considers letting Tony follow that path, live that life, and become the man that Steve has known him to be. Let him follow in Howard's footsteps under Howard's tutelage, and become that man. But the thought doesn't sit right with him, and before long he's set up shop in Andover, working for one of SHIELD's outpost branches and being Tony's weekend getaway from school. It's refreshing, soothing to see Tony whole and hale and hearty, if a bit heartbroken that his father has sent him away. 

Steve thinks Tony knows Howard does care about him to some extent, but that doesn't at all excuse the man's choices. Not here. Not now.

At least Steve's there.

In some ways, Steve learns more about Tony over those few too-short years than he has in any lifetime up to that point. Every Tony he's ever met has been recalcitrant in his own way, and there's something to be said about what, exactly, it is that the world has left Tony to face. In every timeline, in every lifetime, Steve has known Tony as Iron Man more than as Tony Stark. It aches to realize that, at no point in all those lives, has Tony been as authentically himself with Steve as this child is right now.

There are still things Tony won't say. His quiet, desperate need to be seen by his father. The way he just wants what's best for the world. The fact that he knows he's the smartest one in the room before anyone else even opens their mouth. Tony has learned that his genius comes with a price, and Steve wishes to high heaven that that hadn't been the case. But this is the Tony that Steve's choices have created, and Steve sure as shit isn't about to abandon him.

So Steve stays at his side and lets the world wash over and around and within him. He wants to give Tony everything that he deserves. There's a world here that Steve can only ever glimpse, can never understand with the kind of depth and ease that Tony has, but it's something. This tiny candle flame of their relationship and the way their souls can linger in the same plane of existence in a way that Steve had once thought impossible means more than he can even begin to say.

So Steve gives Tony a place to come home to, acts as uncle and mentor, and somehow isn't expecting it when thirteen-year-old Tony Stark comes to him asking about college.

It's not something Steve's ever had to contend with before. He shakes off his instantaneous shock at the idea of Tony going off on his own so young, but there's something here, something going on that he's forgotten about. Something he never understood about Tony. His mind and his brain have always been beyond Steve's comprehension, and to be reminded of it here is a cold comfort that this is, indeed, his Tony.

Steve's all warm gentle smiles as they work through trying to find Tony a future. A home. More than once Tony poses the idea of going somewhere on the West Coast. Steve doesn't intentionally try to steer him away from that, but there's still something about Tony being so far away from him that's hard to stomach. Besides, Rhodes is at MIT, and Steve wouldn't be doing his damn job if he didn't at least guide Tony toward Boston, even if he doesn't decide on MIT.

But he does, because Tony knows who he is and what he wants, and MIT is it. Not to mention the fact that Howard wasn't about to let Tony do much else at the end of the day. So Steve packs up the little apartment he'd been renting and goes out to Boston with Tony. 

"Just to help keep an eye on him," he'd told Howard. "You know you'll feel better knowing he's got someone in his corner out there."

Howard had smiled and nodded and Steve had pretended he was still doing all of this for Howard, not for Steve himself. There's a whole lot more he still needs to do to keep Tony safe, but at this point he can only really focus on one at a time. This is part of Tony's life that Steve himself doesn't know much about, and keeping Tony safe is what this is all about. Keeping Tony safe is all that matters.

* * *

Keeping Tony safe is a hell of a lot more difficult than Steve had anticipated. The boy seems to have developed his death wish somewhere between the end of his last year at boarding school and his first August at MIT. There's a recklessness to everything he does, a kind of drive that Steve remembers from those years in the twilight of his friendship with the first Tony, and there's something in his chest that aches with knowing that that's what he has here, that's what Tony is. Tony only seems to be here for what he can do to break himself, and that… that isn't what Steve came back to allow. He came back to protect Tony, and that seems to be the very last thing on Tony's mind at this point. Staying safe doesn't seem to matter a whit to him, and that's more than Steve can stomach.

He doesn't quite get to the point where he's following Tony to his classes, but after the first three times Tony comes home drunk from one of the frat parties that he somehow manages to keep getting invited to, Steve puts his foot down.

"If there's any chance there's going to be alcohol, I'm going to be there."

Tony glares at him when he lays down the law, looking for all the world like the men that Steve has left behind before. So many of them, dozens of iterations that Steve can't even remember the difference between, countless versions of Tony that just seem to blur together as one and the same. "You're not the boss of me."

"No, but I am your guardian and your chaperone while we're here, and I'm not about to let something happen to you because you decided to disregard your own safety."

"Nothing's going to happen to me."

"Something might, Tony. You can't know that. No one can know that. And I'm not about to let you out into the world alone and risk losing you altogether."

"You're not going to be able to stop me from drinking if I really set my mind to it. Dad says—"

"Your father has some outdated ideas about what is and isn't appropriate for a young man your age," Steves snaps before he can think better of it. Then he reins himself in, trying to find the words to say what he needs to. "I'm not going to stop you from drinking, Tony. That would be hypocritical of me." Tony's eyes go wide at the implication, but before he can say anything, Steve forges ahead. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander around town drunk off your ass when I could be there to get you home in one piece."

Tony blinks slowly, eyes wide and uncertain where they rest on Steve. "Y'mean it?"

"Which part?" Steve asks automatically. Then he shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. Yes, Tony, I meant all of it. I'm here to keep you safe whether you want me to or not. There's no way I'm going to try to control what you do — you've always been too stubborn for that — but you can be damn sure I'm going to be right here with you the whole time."

Tony stares up at him for a long moment before nodding back. "Alright. I guess I won't try and ditch you, then."

Steve rolls his eyes, some of the tense fear in his chest loosening at the affirmation. "That's a relief. So you'll let me know next time something like this comes up that you want to go to?"

Tony smiles and nods. "You've got it, old man."

The words startle a laugh out of Steve, something foreign and aching knocking itself loose in his chest. There's so much he still has to do to give Tony the life he deserves, but damned if he won't do every last thing.

* * *

Tony stays true to his word, calling Steve and summoning him down to any of the parties that he wants to go to. Steve goes inside to the first two, then starts setting up shop in the car outside, reading or sketching while he waits for Tony, loose and pliant with what little alcohol there is in his bloodstream whenever he makes his way back to the car. It's not an easy thing for Steve to smile and nod through the way he just wants to stay close to Tony, just wants to keep him safe. Just wants to live through to a future where he's alive. Just wants to see him have the life he deserves. If this is what it takes, Steve will do this gladly.

It takes a while before the whole thing becomes natural, keeping to Tony's side and keeping him safe, but Steve knows without a doubt that he will do whatever it takes. This is for Tony, this is for Peter and Rhodes and Pepper and Morgan, and Steve won't stop until he's done whatever he needs to do to keep Tony safe. Keep Tony alive. That's all that matters. That's why he's here.

Rhodes slowly becomes a permanent fixture in Steve's home. At first Steve wonders what it's about, wonders what brings the man here, wonders why the world has ended up this way again. But the more he watches the way Rhodes moves around Tony, the more he understands. Rhodes sees what so few people see in Tony when they first meet him. What Steve himself had failed to see when he'd first met Tony. Rhodes sees Tony's heart for what it is — a fragile, fluttering thing wrapped up in all the layers of protection and self-sacrifice that makes Tony who he is. Steve welcomes the man — still a boy, but one that Steve knows will grow to be a man long before he can even realize it — into his home with open arms. Anyone that can protect Tony the way he needs to be protected, that can see the value and virtue in Tony's soul, is someone to be kept close. 

Steve learns more about engineering over the next three years than he ever thought he'd know. Between listening to Rhodes muttering over his homework in the corner and running through Tony's presentations with him, he starts to understand Tony's fascination with the subject a little better.

He'd always been in awe of how Tony's brain worked, but watching him like this while he's still young and developing is something different altogether. Bruce and Rhodes and Tony's minds had always worked in ways beyond Steve's comprehension, but it's only as he watches the differences in the way Rhodes and Tony think and talk that he thinks he can understand a bit of just how brilliant Tony is. The first time Steve goes to one of Tony's presentations and has to sit through three of his classmates' presentations as well he gains even more of an understanding of who Tony is, the way his mind works. There's a whole world of understanding just waiting for him here, and Steve is desperate to see what it all becomes, who Tony will be when he's an adult.

Steve watches and listens and learns, already seeing the shade of who Tony will become and what he'll achieve in the future. The hint of knowing, of understanding, of _seeing_ that's always characterized Tony in his mind before is just starting to emerge. Steve can see the shape of the man Tony will be and it makes his heart ache in ways he'd forgotten it could.

At some point, Tony's intelligence starts to make Steve forget how young and vulnerable Tony is. Not that it should be something he'd forget, but this Tony is just as much a master of masks as Steve's Tony had been. The first half dozen times Tony comes on to Steve, Steve brushes it off as a joke. There's no way Tony would think of him that way; he's been nothing more than the boy's uncle for years.

And then That Night happens. It should have been just like any other night when Tony got horny and tried to come on to him. But with graduation on the horizon and Tony's birthday as close as it had been, well. Steve had slipped. And he knows Tony's never going to let him forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, yeah. We're going there. Kind of. Next chapter should reveal all. Thanks for being so patient with me!!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would be the chapter where that Underage tag gets a workout. Please be advised.

"Fuck me."

One of these days Steve is going to get used to the way those words slur over Tony's lips when he's drunk. As it is, he still startles at the want in Tony's voice. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in through his nose, (and, god, did Tony _bathe_ in alcohol at the party?) and steels himself. He opens his eyes. "No."

Tony smirks. "C'mon, _Captain_ , you know you want to."

Steve bites the inside of his lip hard enough he thinks it might bleed. He knows Tony doesn't mean anything by it, he never does. Even if he did, it's just a teenage crush. He can't. "No, Tony."

Tony's pout is as magnificent as it's always been. Ever since he was a child he's had that look down pat. Tony slinks closer to Steve, plastering himself up against Steve's front. "C'mon, Steve." There's a purr in his voice now that's utterly at odds with his expression. "I'm _horny_."

The sensation of Tony's pressed up against him is the only thing that keeps Steve from shuddering at the implication. "And I'm your guardian, not your fucktoy."

The word slips out accidentally and Steve feels his eyes go wide at the same time Tony pulls back. Tony stares up at him, eyes sharp with more understanding than he should be able to display with as drunk as he is. His face shifts from the pout to an expression that's all sultry lust and want.

The bottom drops out of Steve's stomach.

"Why, Captain," and the purr is back in Tony's voice, "I didn't know you were so crude."

Steve gathers up the shreds of his dignity and stands up straight. "I was in the Army, Tony. You know that."

"And Rhodey's going into the Air Force, what's your point?"

"My _point_ , Tony, is that I've heard worse than that. So have you, and we both know it."

"Yeah," Tony agrees, the sultry look shifting back into a smirk, "but you're never that crude when I'm hitting on you."

Steve swallows. His throat is drier than it had been moments ago. "Tony, I already told you—"

Tony pulls away with a speed that leaves Steve staggering and dizzy. He blinks rapidly, trying to get his balance back and figure out where the hell Tony went. Tony's already halfway up the walk back to the party. The one he'd explicitly called to have Steve pick him up from because it was, quote, "too boring."

Steve's up the walk with Tony's wrist in his hand before he can stop himself. "Get in the damn car, Tony."

Tony snarls and rips his wrist from Steve's intentionally loose grip. "You're not my _dad_."

"No." Steve's voice is steel and vibranium and Tony stands up a little straighter at the sound. "If I was, I'd have thrown you over my shoulder and dragged you into the car already for what you said to me."

"What," Tony says, bite and challenge in his tone, "you're saying you wouldn't put me over your knee instead?"

"Who says I wouldn't?"

The words are out before Steve can think better of them. The blood drains from his face. Tony's eyes go wide, his pupils dilating and his lips parting. All at once Steve understands the men and women (boys and girls, really, and Tony no more than a child himself) that Tony brings home. It settles like a stone in his stomach; he's loved Tony in the past, has long since come to terms with that fact, but he also knows Tony isn't his to have. He never has been. And especially not when he's—

"Steve—"

Steve uses Tony's shock against him, doing exactly what he'd said and throwing Tony over his shoulder to carry him bodily to the car. Tony doesn't fight in the slightest, his body relaxing and molding to Steve's torso as though to bind them together down to their atoms. Steve suppresses a shiver at that, his whole body taut with the ignorant want and inappropriate desire that are warring with the sense of responsibility in his heart.

He's more careful when he eases Tony into the passenger seat than he was picking him up. Tony doesn't let go right away, his fingers tightening in the collar of Steve's t-shirt. Steve lets himself be held, more concerned about getting Tony home safe and in one piece than with anything that might go wrong in the in between. Tony takes full advantage of the weakness, pulling Steve down into a filthy kiss.

Steve's breath catches in his throat. It's more than he's had in decades, more than he's reached for. He's never been one for casual sex and it's been ages — lifetimes, really — since he was really intimate with anyone. For this to happen here, now, with Tony—

Steve puts a hand on Tony's shoulder and eases away. "Put on your seatbelt." He closes the door on Tony's disappointed face.

Steve shakes off the hint of want in his belly and makes his way around to the other side of the car. He steels himself for whatever Tony will throw at him on the drive back to the apartment and gets in the car.

The first five minutes pass with no issue. Tony hums idly and stares out the window. It isn't until Tony's hand slides into Steve's peripheral vision that it occurs to him that Tony might not do his usual song and dance and jerk himself off in the car. He's got something different planned for tonight.

Tony's hand comes to rest on Steve's thigh just above his knee, his thumb rubbing methodical, intentional circles on Steve's denim-covered skin. He doesn't say anything. He just goes on rubbing idly at Steve's skin. Not innocent, but not dangerous. Not yet.

It takes a minute and three stoplights before Steve realizes that Tony's hand is higher than it had been when this had started. It's easing it's way higher and higher up his thigh, thumb and fingers working their way closer to his now-definitely-interested cock. Steve swallows down the arousal and drops one hand to take Tony's and put it pointedly on Tony's own lap instead of his. "No."

"C'mon, Steve," Tony murmurs. "Just let me have some fun."

"You're the one that asked me to pull you out of the party, Tony. You know what that means as well as anyone else does." Tony scoffs. Steve tightens his hands around the steering wheel. "You know what that means, Tony," he repeats, "and the rules are the same as they have always been."

There are another two minutes of blessed calm from Tony before he reaches out again, this time placing his palm high up on Steve's thigh, his pinky finger nudging up against Steve's cock. Steve doesn't swerve, but it's a very near thing.

"God _dammit_ , Tony, I'm driving."

Tony hums noncommittally. "I know."

Steve grabs Tony's hand and pulls it off his thigh, nerves and frustration and want making him sloppy. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he lets his other hand go to the back of Tony's neck. "Don't you dare sit there and pretend you're not trying to get a rise out of me." He spits the words out, the implication that Tony might succeed in his quest almost too much for him to handle. "Don't you dare."

Steve can see Tony's smile out of the corner of his eye. "Hah! So you do want me."

"Tony—"

"Don't worry, Steve, I give excellent road head."

Before Steve can even wrap his mind around that collection of words, Tony's reaching out again, this time not even trying to make a secret of what he's planning. He undoes Steve's button and fly, reaches into his underwear, and pulls out his cock, somehow managing to do the whole thing fast enough and deftly enough that Steve can't stop him. Steve's heart leaps into his throat at the implication, his brain suddenly connecting the dots between what Tony said and what he's doing. He's wondered about his chance to have this with Tony before — other Tonys, not this Tony, _never_ with a Tony so young — but actually having Tony's hand on his cock is more than he can even begin to comprehend. His heart leaps as Tony pumps him once, twice, and he has to do something about this, he has to stop it.

Before he can snap at Tony to knock it off, Tony's undone his own seatbelt and is leaning over, his mouth poised above Steve's cockhead. The warmth of his breath is enough to have Steve's dick standing at attention in moments. Steve draws a shaky breath, his heart in his throat, but before he can speak Tony presses a kiss to the side of his cock. Steve can feel Tony's smirk when he speaks against Steve's skin. "Tell me to stop."

"Tony—"

"Tell me to stop."

Steve swallows. He knows Tony will stop if he says the word, but he can't force the syllable past his lips. He can't deny that he wants this, can't deny that Tony is all that he wants in the whole multiverse.

He doesn't say a word.

Tony looks up at him, his radiant smile too much for Steve to deny. "Knew it."

The whisper sends the rest of Steve's brain south to join the blood in his dick and it takes a moment before he can force himself to refocus his attention on the road. He swallows down the want and the need and the desperate, quiet hope in his chest as Tony works him to full hardness. This isn't what he wants, isn't who he wants, isn't even legal in the slightest, but right now he wants this pale imitation of what he does want so badly that he can't think of anything else besides this and driving. Besides, a little thing like the law has never stopped him before. Why start now?

The question sinks like a stone in his gut and he reaches down to grab Tony by the hair, intending to pull him off. The second his fingers twine in the strands, though, Tony moans around him, lewd and wanting and Steve doesn't mean to jerk his hand away from Tony's hair, but he does.

Tony works him a bit more, earnestness in his every move, and Steve can't help but want. "Come on, Steve," Tony says as he pulls his mouth off Steve's dick with a pop. "Pull over and fuck me."

"Tony, I already said—"

"Fuck me. Use me. Take me apart. You're the only one—" Steve's fingers tense on the steering wheel at the implication, but Tony changes tact before Steve can even process what he might mean. "Fuck me like a gutter slut, Steve, if that's all you'll give me, just fuck me. It's all I want right now."

Steve's vision whites out at the edges at Tony's words, the way they're a bitter, ugly, utter dismissal of what Tony is to him. For Tony to think that Steve would ever— _could_ ever—

He forces himself to speak. "You're drunk."

"Not too drunk not to know what I want. C'mon, Steve, we both know I've wanted you for years. Watched you all the time. Now that I'm older, you're finally looking back. You can't blame me for wanting you."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But you're still drunk, and I won't fuck you drunk."

"Then fuck me in the morning when I'm hungover. Fuck me tomorrow night when I'm sober. Wine and dine me or whatever you need to do to soothe your conscience." Tony pumps his fist on Steve's dick with each challenge. "Fuck me however you want, but just promise me you'll fuck me, Steve."

Steve's jaw locks. It's pain and want and desperation, everything Tony has been for the last three years since they landed here at MIT. It's everything Tony won't let himself say or do or be, and it flays Steve alive to see Tony so desolate. Briefly, in that distant part of him that still remembers why he started this mission in the first place, he wonders how his Tony survived the pain. There's no way Rhodes would have let him off the hook for this kind of behavior, but there's also only so much that he could have done. Steve's seen their relationship tested to the brink, and there are some things that no one can ever get Tony to do, no matter what.

Steve reaches down, his fingers tight in Tony's hair to keep him from leaning down to start sucking him off again. "My terms."

Tony's breath catches, and Steve would close his eyes at the pain and hope and wonder in that sound if he weren't still driving. Tony doesn't say anything, waiting in limbo for whatever Steve will give him.

"My terms," Steve says, "or not at all."

"Whatever you want," Tony breathes out over the head of Steve's cock. It's still damp with Tony's saliva and Steve shudders at the sensation. "Whatever you want."

"What I want," Steve says, "is to take you apart, slow and steady." Tony's takes a sharp breath. "What I want is to make you understand how much you mean to me. How much I would give for you to have the kind of life you deserve. How far I would go to make that a reality for you. What I want is to show you that you mean the world to me and you always will. And right now what I want is for you to put my dick away, put your seatbelt back on, and not get me locked up for public indecency."

Tony scrambles to comply. As soon as Tony's settled again, though, Steve can see the methodical way he's rubbing at his own erection through his jeans. It's hotter than it has any right to be, Tony splayed out with his head thrown back and his lips parted on a sigh. He's the very picture of debauchery, the picture of innocence. Steve is taken all at once with the desire to do exactly what Tony had proposed, to pull over and fuck him raw.

The thought is so visceral that it startles Steve. It grabs him by the balls and leaves him gagging with want. He sinks into the sensation, into the idea, the thought of taking Tony without all the reverence he's always thought he would reserve for that kind of moment, should it ever come to pass. He'd wondered, a lifetime or two ago, if it might happen, him and that Tony, but it never had. They'd both been older, somewhat wiser, and they'd held back until it was too late to do anything about it. The thought that he could have something here, now—

But Tony's too young, and he doesn't know what's ahead for him. Neither does Steve, if he's being perfectly honest. He's certain Maria and Howard are safe from Bucky, which is more than he thought he'd be able to pull off. Changing that point in Tony's history could change everything, could be enough to save him from the fate of becoming Iron Man and giving his life to save the universe, and Steve doesn't know what's ahead of them.

All he knows is that if he's going to finally get the chance to be with Tony, it's not going to be like this.

Steve's gaze doesn't stray back to Tony for the rest of the drive back to the apartment. He can't afford to look away from the road, and he can't afford to let himself sink any further into lust with the boy next to him. Love was inevitable, but lust should have waited much, much longer. He knows he'll be subjected to Tony's moans and whimpers through the too-thin walls of the apartment when they get back thanks to Steve's own enhanced hearing. He knows he may even succumb to his own desire as he has before. But that doesn't mean he's ready to risk everything Tony is and could be on a whim. There's so much ahead of Tony, so far that he could still go, and Steve doesn't get to decide that path for him. That's for Tony to decide. Not Howard, not Edwin, not Maria, and certainly not Steve. Steve's here to keep Tony safe. That's all.

So Steve keeps his eyes locked on the road and drives. It's all he can do.

Helping Tony up to the apartment once they get there is an exercise in patience. Tony's a limpet, arms twining around Steve's neck as he whispers filthy things in his ear, desperate and dirty fantasies that seem intended to break Steve of his convictions. Steve holds firm. When he helps Tony to bed, stripping him out of the skintight gear he'd worn to the party and under the covers, he hesitates for a long moment. Tony stares up at him, the alcohol finally hazing over his eyes. It's that expression that convinces Steve that he needs to walk away. Curling up in bed with Tony to comfort him after Howard's just called and spent an hour railing against his time in school is one thing. Curling up in bed with Tony when he's drunk and horny is another thing altogether. Steve turns on his heel and slips out of Tony's bedroom.

Steve takes a long moment moving through the kitchen getting everything ready for the morning. Anything to prolong the time he needs to go back to his room and risk hearing the tempting sounds of Tony jerking off. But Tony knows this game as well as Steve does, and all Steve can hear as he moves through the kitchen is Tony's soft sighs of temptation, the sounds that mean he hasn't started jerking off in earnest yet. Steve knows Tony's waiting for him to finish up in the kitchen in the hope that Tony can tempt him to his own orgasm. It's an old game, and one that Steve had hoped he could win tonight.

Exhaustion pulls at his bones and eventually he succumbs, putting the last of the dishes away and turning to his bedroom, willing to let Tony win tonight. He turns off the kitchen light and makes his way to his own room, pulling the door shut behind him and heading to bed. In moments, the sounds from Tony's room grow less cautious, the moans less breathy and more wanting, the touches less leisurely and more intentional. Steve bites his lip on a moan of his own. He clenches his eyes shut, stomach twisting with guilt and shame. He shouldn't but he knows he will.

He strips out of his own jeans and palms himself, embarrassed by the fact that he's halfway to hard already. The memory of Tony's mouth around his cock is too close for him to forget, and there's nothing like that feeling, nothing he could do to forget it. He swallows down the guilt and slips into bed himself, his head close enough to the wall separating him from Tony that the sounds are crystal clear. Clear and bright enough that Tony could be in the same room with Steve if not for the lack of warmth at Steve's side. Steve closes his eyes and reaches down to palm himself again.

Tony moans, his voice carrying easily. Steve works his cock slow and steady, turning his ears toward the sound of Tony's fingers on his flesh, to the way he works himself. Steve matches his pace. Speeding up as Tony's fingers work a slick path along his length, slowing down as his impatience fades. The ebb and flow belies the impatience that plagues Tony. Plagues them both. But Steve plays along, hand alternately loose and vise-tight around his cock, teasing and stifling by turns.

And then the words start.

"God, Steve. I know you can hear me. You know I waited until you were done until I started this, don't you? Even though it was torture. I waited. God, I hope you're touching yourself too. Or that you're hard, at least. I can imagine you lying there, trying not to touch yourself because you think it's wrong. You'd be all red and flushed and hot with it, desperate to fuck me. Or maybe you've got a hand on your dick and you're jerking yourself off. Whatever you're doing I hope you're lying there thinking about what you're missing out on. What you said no to. I hope you can still feel my tongue on your dick. Can you feel me, Steve?"

_Yes. Yes, I can feel you._

"Think about that while you lie there, Steve. Think about what you could have. You sure you don't want to come over here and just take me? Put me over your knee like you threatened to? I'd let you."

Steve clenches his eyes shut, fingers stilling on his cock. God. If only.

"Your dick in my mouth. In my ass. Fuck, whatever you want, Steve, I'd give it to you." Tony's fingers start moving again, slow and deliberate. Steve can hear the way they trace along his skin. "Anything you want." The slick sounds take on a different tone then, and Tony whimpers in something that might be pain. Steve tunes into Tony completely, ready to rush in and do whatever he has to do to keep Tony safe. Then his brain parses what the sound is and his cock goes somehow even harder instead.

Tony's fingering himself open.

"I've seen you, you know. Tonight's the first time I've seen you hard, but I used to imagine it. What you'd look like ready to fuck me. But that dick you're packing… Damn. It's good to know you're not just a shower. I want you to fill me up, Steve." Tony pauses, another whimper falling from his lips. "I want you inside me, fucking me, taking me apart. You'd be so good. So careful. Gentlemanly. Right up until you realized how serious I am, and then you'd absolutely destroy me. Fuck me 'til I screamed. Until all I could do would be to cling to you, while you took me apart. Maybe you'd even fuck me 'til I passed out. Would you, Steve? Would you get so lost in all of this that you'd forget about taking care of me? Fuck, I hope so. If I could be that for you, if I could give you that… God, Steve, that would be everything."

Steve bites his lip on the words he wants to speak. How he wants to be gentle with Tony but isn't sure he ever could be. How he wants to take his time taking Tony apart, giving him the love and devotion he deserves. How Tony has always been one of the few people that can make him completely lose control.

How Tony's not the first person he's torn the world asunder for but he's certainly the one that he's done the most for. Lives lived, lives lost, and dozens of deaths on Steve's head that he would never undo even if he could. Steve can never regret what he's done if it leaves Tony alive at his side one day.

"I'd give you everything, Steve."

_I've already given you everything I know how to give, Tony. Maybe more._

The melancholy sits in Steve's chest for a brief moment, a quiet desire to be everything that Tony wants him to be, everything that he wants to be for Tony. Then Tony lets out another one of those lewd noises and the melancholy passes in favor of lust.

"You'd be so good at it, wouldn't you, Steve? All those muscles, all that strength. You'd bend me however you wanted me and fuck me 'til I couldn't see straight, and we'd both love every minute of it. Dammit, Steve, I know you want me. Why won't you just take me? All that conscience ever got you was—" Tony cuts himself off on a moan. Steve's grateful. He's not sure what he would have done with whatever the end of that sentence was going to be.

"So jealous of you, Steve. You can hear me, I know you can, and I know you want me too, and I'm just here all alone in the dark with nothing but my hand for company. I don't even get to hear your voice while you lay there. I wanna hear you, Steve. Wanna hear how bad you want me."

Steve shakes his head. He can't. He can't make a sound. Can't give anything else to make Tony any more certain that Steve really does want him. He can't.

Tony barely stops for breath. "You'd fuck me and take me apart until I was begging you to let me come, until there was nothing left of me but what you made me. I'd do it too, Steve. I'd be whatever you wanted me to be. Please. Please, just— just—"

Then Tony's breathless words turn into breathless moans and there's nothing Steve can do but jerk himself in time with Tony.

"Fuck me, Steve. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, just— just—"

The sound of Tony's orgasm is one that Steve is already intimately familiar with. It's not something he'd like to know about this Tony, but he does. This utter submission to the whims of his body, the willingness to sink into whatever orgasm comes his way. It's brilliant and beautiful and terrifying and Steve hates how much he loves it.

Tony sighs, his breath soothing the heat of Steve's impending orgasm. It's everything he wants and nothing like what he needs. "God, Steve. You could be in here with me right now if you were a little braver. Could be in here kissing me all soft and easy. Hands all over my skin while you tried not to fuck me even after I'd come."

For a split second Steve wonders if Tony actually can hear him through the walls. if Tony knows he hasn't come yet. But it can't be, there's no way—

"You'd fuck me all gentle and easy. Fuck me 'til I was moaning again. You'd fuck me like that until I started to beg you to just get on with it. Just to take me apart and come inside me. You'd do it, wouldn't you, Steve? You'd fuck me until you came inside me. It's okay, Steve. You can come. It's okay."

Steve grits his teeth on the quiet desire to cry out at that as his orgasm takes him. He'd felt it coming, building behind his navel, and he hadn't done a damn thing to stave it off. He'd rested there and done exactly what he needed to do to make this come to fruition. Tony's still talking in the other room, but Steve tunes it out over the white noise of the ringing in his own ears. He hates how easily he comes when Tony speaks, hates how easy it is for him to succumb to Tony's whims.

"Love you, Steve."

But then Tony goes and says things like that, things his Tony never would have said and, for a moment, Steve lets himself believe that it's enough. It isn't — it never will be — but in these moments he can pretend.

"Love you."

Steve strips out of his boxers. He considers cleaning up but the thought sits hollow in his stomach. He closes his eyes and reaches out for sleep.

* * *

Tony hunches over the mug of coffee Steve hands him, eyes heavy and deadened as he stares into the middle distance. It's enough confirmation for Steve to pull back to keep making breakfast.

"I haven't forgotten what you promised me last night." Steve goes stiff at Tony's words. When Tony continues, his tone tells Steve he's been caught. "You promised."

"And I'll never break a promise to you Tony. You know that."

"Then when—"

"When you need it the most, Tony. That's when I'll keep my promise."

"What's that even supposed to mean?"

Steve smiles down at the eggs he's cooking. The petulance in Tony's tone is reminiscent enough of Tony's younger days that the hint of heat in his gut subsides. Tony's still his to protect, still a child, and Steve can't afford to be anything but professional with him. There's so much more at stake than a moment of happiness with Tony. He can't afford to steer things too far off course.

"It means that when you need it the most I'll be there." He turns and smiles over his shoulder at Tony. "Once you're legal and grown enough to make that decision and you need me the most, I'll be there. And when you think it's that moment, the one time you think it's worth it to take everything I offered last night and put it out on the line for a quick lay, then I'll fuck you." The word feels crass on his tongue, broken glass sharpness in his mouth, but it's true. The closest to true that he can give Tony right now.

"And if I say that's my eighteenth birthday?"

Steve shrugs. "Then I'll do it. I'll do it, but, Tony, you should know that I can't promise you I'll be there in the morning."

Tony's eyes go glass-bright. "You'd leave?"

"I have my own oaths to keep, Tony, and not just to you. There are some things too precious to give up for a moment of pleasure."

"It doesn't have to be a moment, Steve! You know as well as I do that the rules don't apply to you. If you just—"

"The rules apply to everyone, Tony. Thinking I was above the law has cost me more than I can ever even begin to tell you. If you sit there and ask me to throw this all away to take you to bed when you turn eighteen, I will, because you are one of the most important people in my life." _The most important._ "I will give you this if you ask, but I can't promise you I'll be there in the morning."

Tony stares at him, eyes bright with tears Steve knows he won't shed. "Is that all I mean to you?"

"You mean the world to me and more, Tony. But I can't protect you and be _with you_ at the same time. I can't have that and know what the cost would be if I ever lost you." Steve shrugs, a bittersweet smile on his lips. "It would compromise me completely."

Tony blinks. One of the tears beads on his lower eyelash before it drops off the end and slides down Tony's cheek. Steve can't stop himself from leaning in to kiss the teardrop from Tony's skin. Tony turns his head, and Steve lets their lips brush. Tony whimpers, the sound tired and broken and wanting in a way that Steve's always known Tony could be and always actively worked to prevent. To be the cause of it is too much.

He pulls back, salt and shame on his lips. "I can't lose you, Tony. Please don't ask me to."

Tony sobs, a soft, broken sound, before he turns and presses his lips to Steve's firmly. "Don't leave me, Steve. Please. Don't leave me."

Steve kisses Tony back, warm and hopeful and chaste. "I won't, Tony. For as long as I can manage it, I will be by your side. I swear it."

Tony reaches up, his hands still warm from the coffee in his mug when he presses them against Steve's cheeks. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Tony pauses, his breath mingling with Steve's. Then he pulls back. "Okay." He opens his eyes and looks up at Steve. "I won't ask again."

The words are both a balm and a menace. Steve nods and tries to think only of the peace this will bring him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go with this installment! How do you think this is going to finish?


	20. Chapter 20

Undergrad comes and goes, and Tony convinces his dad to let him stay on through his graduate work. Steve doesn't even need to nudge Howard that much; he seems to understand how important Tony will be to the future of SI, even if he doesn't know what it will mean to the universe. So Steve stays on in Boston while Rhodes finishes up his senior year and Tony starts his Master's degree. Rhodes leaves, Tony's one Master's becomes a PhD and three more Master's degrees, and before Steve knows it, Tony's starting to become the man Steve's always known he could be.

Through it all Steve goes on consulting for SHIELD, goes on looking for the hints of HYDRA that might still be there in the tiny, secret corners of the organization, goes on ducking Tony's advances at every turn, never leaving Boston for work if he can help it. Protecting Tony is too important, too much a part of who he's become, that there's no way he's ever going to be able to walk away for anything less than a catastrophe.

Which, of course, comes one year in early December. It's Peggy asking, or Steve would have said no right off the bat. Even then, he hesitates, glancing at Tony in the corner, who's gone suspiciously still at the kitchen table.

"Pegs," Steve says, and he can hear the ache in his own voice when he speaks, "you know I'd do just about anything for you, but—"

"And you know I wouldn't ask you for anything less than an emergency that I know only you can handle. Please, Steve. I need you on this one."

Steve swallows, glancing over at Tony again. Tony makes no secret of the fact that he's watching Steve now, his gaze scrutinizing. That makes Steve's decision for him. He's here for one reason and one reason alone, and that's to keep Tony safe. He doesn't want the rest of the world to burn, but he'd do a hell of a lot if it meant keeping Tony safe. "I'm sorry, Peggy. You know I want to help, but—"

"Hi Aunt Peggy."

Steve blinks, wondering how Tony got the drop on him and got the phone out of his hand without Steve registering him moving. "Tony—" he starts, but Tony doesn't stop, his eyes fixed on Steve's as he goes on speaking.

"He'll be there."

Steve glares at Tony, mouth already open to protest, but Tony doesn't let him get a word in edgewise.

"Yep, I'll make sure of it Aunt Peggy." The mischievous light in Tony's eyes is almost too much to bear. "Just tell me when you want him there. I'll have Dad reroute my flight home so we can head over there together."

Steve tries to glower, tries to look menacing, but he doesn't seem to be very successful if the impish grin Tony gives him is any indication. "Tony—"

"Merry Christmas to you too, Aunt Peggy." Tony drops the phone back on the hook and lets his grin go even wider. "It's cool, Steve. I'm going home for Christmas anyway. I'll be with Mom and Dad and the rest of their hopped up security staff. Nothing's going to happen to me."

Steve almost argues. Almost.

* * *

Steve doesn't mean to be distracted when Peggy's telling him about the mission. She's as clear and firm as she always is, direct and concise, but Steve isn't catching more than a sentence or two in a row.

When the rest of the op squad trickles out at the end of the briefing, Peggy puts a hand on Steve's shoulder to keep him from following. Her smile is kind, but her eyes are cool and knowing. "Walk with me?"

Steve's heart leaps, and he nods. He doesn't know what she's going to say, but something tells him he isn't going to like it.

She leads him to her office and sits him down in the chair across from her desk. She doesn't sit down, choosing instead to lounge back against her desk and frown down at him intimidatingly. "Alright, Rogers. Spill."

Steve winces. "Pegs—"

"Don't you _Pegs_ me, Rogers. You know I wouldn't pull you away from the kid if I didn't really need you on this."

"I know, but—"

"Mission or not, reason or not, you're still a symbol in this country. Still an important asset. There's too much at stake here for you not to be involved."

"I know, Peggy, I know it's important, but—"

"You weren't listening to the brief, Steve." That firm, gentle tone is back. "Don't tell me you understand the implications when you didn't hear a damn word I said in that room."

Steve swallows, forcing himself to concede. He looks up at Peggy, really seeing her for the first time tonight. There are bags under her eyes and something defeated in her posture that he hadn't noted before. Stupid of him. Sloppy. He sits up a little straighter. "Then give me the short version."

Peggy's lips twitch, but she seems too tired for a full smile. "It's a sleeper cell. We have reason to believe some of the scientists that were working on— on Barnes are associated with the cell." Steve's heart lurches, but Peggy keeps going before he can get a word in edgewise. "We think there might be more super soldiers involved."

Steve pitches forward, head in his hands as he tries not to shake. It's too much to think that, even in saving Bucky, he may not have saved all the others that fell to the same fate. "Fuck."

"Steve, if there's anything you know. Anything you can tell me to help on this mission."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath. "They weren't perfect. Not in my timeline. They had better technology but less of a reason to perfect the serum and its effects than they did in my timeline. There's a very real chance that they're just as strong as Bucky. They're going to be smart too, and well-trained. Hydra keeps their prized possessions in the best condition possible."

Peggy nods, her forehead creasing. "We wouldn't have even had the intel at all except that one of them got sloppy on their way into the country. Pissed off someone on the flight and didn't take kindly to someone trying to take them into custody. One of my agents was there and passed the info along. Keen eyes on that one, I'll have to—"

"There's one in the country?"

Peggy frowns. "Steve?"

Steve doesn't want to think about the picture he must make right now, sheet-white and terrified. "Peggy. There's one in the country right now?"

"Yes, but he's been neutralized, it's not a concern."

Steve's hands are shaking. December. Oh god, it's December. It's— It's—

"Peggy. What's the date?"

Peggy raises an eyebrow. "December sixteenth."

Steve's out of the room like a shot. He can hear Peggy shouting at him down the hall, but he can't seem to run fast enough. Can't even think about slowing down.

He reaches the phone bank, dialing the number at the Stark residence on memory alone. His fingers are shaking, heart in his throat, and when Deaken answers the phone, one of the men Edwin is training up to replace him, Steve can't keep a harsh swear off his lips.

"Deaken, it's Steve. Have Howard and Maria left already?"

"Yes, Captain Rogers, what's all this about?"

"Tony," Steve says, breathless with fear. "Is Tony with them?"

"Yes, Captain, but—"

Steve can't breathe. He throws the phone down, missing the receiver and hurtling out of the complex toward his bike. There's no time to stop, no time to slow down or breathe or think. He has to get to Tony. He has to keep him safe. He can't— He can't let him die. Not here. Not now. This is what he came here to stop, and if his inability to keep Tony safe and his attempts to help Tony foster a relationship with Howard are what will cause Tony's death, Steve doesn't think he'll be able to handle it. He's fast enough, clever enough, knows the area well enough. 

He can do this. He can get there in time.

He knows, somewhere in his heart, that he's already too late.

* * *

Steve pulls up just in time to see the Soldier smash Howard's face in. Steve can't say he hasn't thought about having that pleasure before, but watching it happen is a different thing. Maria's dead before Steve can even dismount his bike, the Soldier clearly understanding that her time is limited now that Steve's here. And then Steve's treated to the terrible sight of Tony, his head bleeding sluggishly from where something had impacted it. Even through his delirium, though, Steve can see the way Tony's struggling to undo his seatbelt, and Steve thinks he can see blood trickling down his temple, probably from an unexpected impact.

Steve doesn't have time to stop and wonder or worry about all that. He has to dispatch the Soldier and do something — _anything_ to keep her away from Tony.

The Soldier goes down easily. Too easily, Steve knows that, but he doesn't let himself linger on that. Doesn't let himself wonder about what's going on or how this happened or any of that. Instead he just moves through the pain and over to Tony, who's staring up at him with disbelief on his face.

"Uncle Steve?"

Steve doesn't let himself lean into the warmth and want of the word, doesn't let the world be what he'd thought it would be. Could be. He has to get Tony to safety before he can do anything else. "Yeah, kiddo. Yeah, it's me." Tony's smile is delirious, and Steve almost reaches for a cell phone he doesn't have for a light to check Tony's pupils for a concussion. Instead he forces a smile onto his face and tries to meet Tony's eyes head on. "Stay with me, kiddo."

"Hurts," Tony mumbles.

Steve's heart aches. "Yeah, kiddo, I know. I know. But you just gotta let me check you over, gotta let me get you out of there, okay?"

Tony hums, had lolling back on the seat. "Y'sure Uncle Steve?"

Steve's heart pounds a desperate rhythm in his chest, fear making him weak, but he keeps the smile on his face, keeps his features calm and his tone light. "Yeah, kiddo. Yeah, I'm sure."

Tony hums, eyes tracking Steve as he undoes the seatbelt. The second he tries to move with Steve, though, he lets out a sharp cry.

Steve stills immediately, desperate to know what he'd done to hurt the boy, but Tony isn't looking at him. He's looking at the dark suit he's wearing. He peels the lapel away, staring down at what Steve can now see is three bullet wounds through the boy's chest.

"Oh," Tony says, still sounding delirious. "I'd forgotten about that."

Steve chokes on air. "Tony—"

Tony looks up at him, something serene on his face. "S'okay Uncle Steve. I'll be okay."

" _Tony_ —"

"You're here, Steve. That's all I need."

Steve doesn't think he's ever wished he had a cell phone more than he does at this moment. There's no way emergency services will be here in time, no way to put Tony on his bike and take him into town without risking him bleeding out faster, no way that this can end in anything but tragedy and heartbreak. Tony's going to die, and Steve's going to have to kneel here and watch it happen.

Tony frowns at him. "What's wrong?"

Steve tries to smile. "Nothing's wrong, kiddo. Everything's gonna be just fine."

"Don't lie. It isn't like you."

Steve closes his eyes. "I thought I could stop this, kiddo. Thought I could keep you safe."

Tony hums, reaching out to ghost his fingers over Steve's cheekbone. "You do, Steve. You always have."

Steve shakes his head and lets himself lean into Tony's touch. "Not this time, kiddo."

Tony hums, the speed of his blinks growing slower and slower. "Y'think this is it for me?"

"Tony—"

Tony smiles. "S'okay Uncle Steve. I'll be okay."

"How do you know?"

Tony closes his eyes, and for a moment Steve thinks he isn't going to get his answer. Then Tony's eyes slide open and all the breath leaves Steve's chest.

Tony's eyes are glowing a damning shade of orange. "Because. The light in your soul hasn't gone out yet. That means you're not done."

Steve almost jerks away. Almost pulls away from Tony. From the child— the _man_ that he's spent the last twenty years trying to protect. But this is Tony, even if it isn't his words. Steve could never deny Tony anything. Not even when it's something else wearing Tony's face. "Meaning?"

"Meaning we both know this isn't the end. We both know you're going to try again."

"Try?"

Tony — or the stone using Tony's face — just smiles. "You know just as well as I do that there are some things in this world that are fixed points."

"And this is one of them?"

"I suppose you'll find out, won't you?"

Steve has to pull away so that he doesn't take the anger out on Tony's body. There's no way he can stay here and wait for the car to be found, no way he can still be on the scene when the cops get here. He's damned himself and damned the world in the same breath. That doesn't mean he's going to let the fucking Soul Stone use Tony like this as long as he has a chance to stop it. "What do you want with him?"

Tony— the thing in Tony's body tilts its head to the side. "What do you think I want?"

"A twisted thing like you?" Steve glares. "Don't know. Don't care. If you won't let Tony go, you can be damn sure I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure that he's okay."

Tony's face twists into a smirk that's nothing like the ones that Steve's come to love over the years. "You really think you have that power, don't you?"

"I do have that power."

"Arrogant." The word cuts deeper than it might if it hadn't come in Tony's voice. "Arrogant and blind and foolish. You truly think that you can do a damn thing to save him? That your soul could balance out with his?" The laugh is harsher than Steve might have expected, cold and bright and damning. "You don't know anything. You don't know a damn thing."

Steve forces himself close again, refusing to let the Stone take this from him. The words are cold and cruel, but they aren't Tony's. They're the Stone's, and Steve won't leave his boy here. Not again, not when he'd left him to Howard's hand and Howard's belt and Howard's liquor cabinet when he was a boy.

Steve left Tony behind once before. He won't do it again.

He reaches out and takes Tony's bloody hand again. "I'm right here, Tony. I'm right here."

The Stone snarls, trying to pull Tony's hand out of Steve's grip. Steve holds on, steely and firm.

"I'm not going anywhere."

All at once, the strength seems to leave Tony's body. He slumps against Steve, his whole body limp and loose and broken. "Steve…"

Steve pulls him close, cradling Tony's head into the crook of his neck. "I'm here, Tony. I'm here."

Tony reaches up and clutches Steve's shirt with trembling fingers. "Why weren't you here?"

Steve closes his eyes. "I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so sorry."

"It hurts."

"I know it hurts, Tony. I know… I know it hurts. But I need you to hang on, kiddo. I just need you to hang on a little longer."

"Y're not gonna be able to save me, are you?"

"I'll figure something out, Tony, I swear. I swear, I'll— I'll find a way."

Tony chuckles, wet and broken, blood spattering over his lips and Steve's shoulder. "That's just what you want me to think, isn't it? I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"Tony—"

Tony closes his eyes. "S'okay, Steve. Not sure I wanna stick around in a world without my mom."

Steve closes his eyes, pulling Tony closer to him. "There's so much, Tony. So much good you can still do. So much good you still need to do. You can't— you can't die. Not here. Not now. Not tonight."

"We all have a time limit, Uncle Steve. There's always an end for all of us. Just because mine came a little sooner doesn't take anything away from the life I lived."

Steve growls, tightening his grip on Tony before the boy whimpers at the pressure. Steve relents and pulls back to meet Tony's eyes. "I can't walk away from you, Tony. Not when there's still so much more you can do. So much more you need to do. Don't ask me to walk away. Please."

"You have to do what works for you, Steve. But ignoring reality doesn't help anyone. I'm dying, and there's not a damn thing you can do about that. I'm dying, and I need you to accept that."

"But—"

"I need you to accept that, because that's the only way I can make my peace with this. It's the only way."

Steve chokes on his breath. There's another long twenty-odd years stretching out before him before his counterpart will be revived, another half dozen after that before Thanos comes crashing into the forefront of everyone's mind, and Steve—

Steve's lived too long already. Why force himself through all of that again when he can skip all the in between and go straight for Thanos when the world needs Captain America the most?

It's a tempting thought.

Then Steve looks down at Tony in his arms, eyes pained and glassy, and Steve knows he's not about to walk away right now. Not about to walk away and leave this Tony here to die alone.

Steve shakes Tony slightly, enough to warrant a small whimper of pain as Tony's head lolls against Steve's shoulder. He looks up at Steve, the distance still resonating and aching in his eyes, but Steve doesn't say anything about it. He just leans in and presses a kiss to Tony's forehead. "Stay with me, kiddo."

"Hurts."

"I know, Tony. I know. But you gotta be strong. You gotta— You gotta hang on."

Tony closes his eyes, tucking his head in against Steve's neck. "Tell me a story."

Steve chokes on a sob. He knows what that means. It's Tony, trying to distract Steve from the loss, trying to distract Steve from how much hurt is coming down the line. There's so much in those words, so much pain and loss and challenge, and Steve knows there's only so much he can do or say to get through this, but he has to— he has to—

"What kind of story, kiddo?"

"Tell me about the Commandos."

Steve gives a watery laugh. "You know all of those already."

"Tell me again."

Steve pulls Tony tighter to him, heart in his throat. "What if I tell you a story about someone else I worked with? Someone on another team of mine."

"You never had another team." Steve can hear the frown in Tony's voice as he speaks.

Steve kisses Tony's hair. "Not in this lifetime."

Tony hums. "Tell me about them."

"His call sign was Iron Man. And he was the bravest man I've ever met."

"Was?"

"He died. A long time ago." Steve couldn't count the years, not even if he wanted to. "He died to keep everyone safe."

Tony hums again. "Sounds a lot like you."

"He was a better man than I could ever dream of being. Better than I understood when I met him. The day I met him I told him he was self-centered and arrogant, and then not four hours later he—" Steve stutters over the word. How can he explain to this child that twenty years from now he's supposed to save Manhattan from a nuclear warhead? "He took on the strongest weapon our enemy had, and he saved thousands of people single-handedly."

Tony shifts slightly, his breath catching wetly as he moves and breathes. "Sounds like a badass."

Steve laughs. "That wasn't the most amazing thing he did, though. He did so much— Tony, he… I don't even have the words to describe it."

"You loved him, didn't you?"

Steve's breath catches in his throat. "What?"

"You loved him."

Steve closes his eyes. "Tony…"

"It's okay, Uncle Steve. It's not like I can tell anyone."

"I know." Steve doesn't mean to laugh, doesn't mean to minimize the pain that Tony's in, but there's something about humor in the face of death that feels more like what Tony would want than anything else. "I know."

"But he died?"

"Yes. Out of my reach. Outside of my protection. And I… I couldn't do a damn thing to save him."

"Not your job."

Steve shakes his head, wincing at the whimper Tony lets out at the movement. "Tony—"

"Not your job."

Steve goes quiet. He doesn't have the words to respond.

"If he was on your team, he knew the risks. Steve. You never work with anyone but the best, and in a situation like that the best would have known what was coming."

"Would you have?"

Tony's quiet for a moment, as though thinking. Steve bites his tongue and tries not to say anything more lest he give away too much. "Yes," Tony eventually says softly. "Yes, I would have." He shifts in Steve's arms, and Steve has no choice but to look down at him, the orange film over his eyes swimming with red and yellow now, brighter and more mesmerizing than before. "I did, Steve. I knew what I was doing."

Steve stares down at Tony, listens to a voice that is too aching and too deep to be anything but what he thinks it is, too impossible to be what he thinks it is at the same moment. It can't be— It _can't be_ —

"Tony?"

Tony's body, younger than the ache in his eyes might have implied, nods at him once. "It's okay, Steve. I chose this."

Steve shakes his head. "Tony—"

"So please." The body takes an aching, shuddering breath, and Steve feels the bottom drop out of his stomach. "Please, Steve. Let go.

"Let go."

Steve tightens his grip on Tony's body, almost releasing him when he spasms wildly with what must be pain. Before Steve can say or do a damn thing, though, Tony's looking back up at him with eyes as warm and brown as ever before.

"Uncle Steve?"

Steve swallows down the pain and the bile. He doesn't have to tell his Tony the truth to get through this. He doesn't have to tell his Tony a damn thing. He just has to find a universe where Tony can live to adulthood, to old age, to the kind of life he deserves.

And he can't abandon this Tony just because his past is coming back to haunt him.

Steve offers Tony a small smile. "I'm here. Just breathe, kiddo. Everything's— Everything's—"

Tony's hand finds Steve's, his fingers wrapping around his wrist and squeezing weakly. "It's not going to be okay, Uncle Steve. I know that. You know that. It's okay. You don't have to lie to me."

Steve closes his eyes. "There's so much I need to tell you."

"I know you cared about me, Steve. I know what I meant to you. I know… I know you loved me in your own way. That always meant more to me than I could say. So this… you being here with me now… it means the world to me too. Don't forget that. Okay?"

Steve closes his eyes. "Okay, Tony. Okay."

Tony smiles, leaning up to press a kiss to Steve's temple. "I loved you too, Steve."

Steve closes his eyes, the pain of the admission and Tony's assertion just minutes before coalescing into the kind of ache in his chest that he'd forgotten he could feel. "Thank you, Tony. Thank you."

"And… and Steve?"

Steve looks up at Tony, his eyes fading in the same way they had on that battlefield lifetimes ago. "Yes?"

"That partner you told me about. The one that saved you all. I'm sure he loved you too."

Steve closes his eyes. There's no way to take that as anything but Tony's sincerity, but so too there's no way he can take the words to heart. He may have learned what Tony is to him — what every incarnation of Tony has been to him — but that doesn't mean that Tony has ever felt the same way. Whatever _this_ Tony thinks, that doesn't mean any other Tony has felt the same way about him before or might again.

"I'm sure of it."

Steve shakes his head at the conviction in Tony's weakened voice. "Thank you, Tony."

"Uncle… Uncle Steve…"

"Shh." Steve pulls Tony closer. "Don't talk, kiddo. Just rest. Save your strength."

"For what? We both know… we both know I'm dying here."

"That doesn't mean I want you to bleed out any faster."

"Saves you… the pain… of watching me any longer."

Steve closes his eyes. He has nothing to say in response to that.

"Just promise me, Uncle Steve. Just promise me that you'll do whatever it takes to make your life worth it. Don't just give up. Don't, Steve. Don't give up."

Steve grits his teeth. It's exactly the kind of promise his Tony might once have asked of him. It hits too close to home, and he can't find it in himself to deny the boy. "I won't, Tony."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Good," Tony says. There's something final in the word, something so much more and so much deeper than Steve can parse right away. "That's good."

Then all the breath rushes from Tony's chest, leaving him slumped against Steve, and he knows what those words were.

They were Tony's dying wish.

They were all that Tony left him with.

They're all he has left.

* * *

Steve waits until Peggy shows up with two other SHIELD agents. They make quick work of the crime scene, and then Peggy's turning to him, eyes wild and desperate. "Steve, what— what happened?"

"Super Soldier," Steve manages. "Modeled on my blood. Howard—" He shakes his head. "Howard has some more of the serum in the car. He was taking it to the Pentagon."

"Steve, are you—"

"Destroy it, Peggy. Destroy all of it. Promise me."

"I will, but Steve—"

Steve shakes his head, stepping away. "I can't stay, Peggy. Don't ask me to. I can't— I can't stay."

Peggy's eyes go wide. "Then what—"

"I came to save him, Peggy. To protect him. If I can't do that— If I can't even do that—"

"Steve—"

"I can't stay here. If I can't keep him safe, what the fuck am I doing here?"

"Good things, Steve. You're doing good things."

Steve shakes his head. "Not good enough."

Right there, in the middle of a dark road in the middle of the woods in the Northeast, Steve pulls his bracelet out of its pocket dimension, and calls the two stones out along with it.

"Steve—"

"Goodbye, Peggy. I wish you all the best."

The world dissolves around him, and Steve doesn't let himself regret the choice.

There's nothing left for him here. Maybe there never was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so DON'T FREAK OUT PLEASE. I know this is, like, the longest, most drawn out death scene ever, but there's some important things going on here that required the time and space. Also, I know this probably isn't the ending you were hoping for. But I have good news on that front!
> 
> There's another 150k+ of this story lying in wait for all of you; this is just the end of the first installment. As an apology for this ambiguous ending, I'm also going to post the first chapter of the next installment tonight. Hopefully the extra words will make up for this wide open ending.
> 
> Thank you, as always, for sticking with me this long. This story has been a joy to share with all of you, and I can't wait to continue the journey with you!!


End file.
